


The Outlaw and the Cartel Boss

by satashii



Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Alternate Universe - Sentinels and Guides Are Known, Angel Reyes - Freeform, Bonding Sex, Cristobal still kidnapped, Emily Galindo - Freeform, Enemies to Lovers, Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes, Felipe Reyes - Freeform, Goes wildly off course from the show, Kevin Jimenez - Freeform, M/M, Miguel Galindo - Freeform, Miguel/Emily mentioned, Mildly Dubious Consent, Not Beta Read, Sentinel/Guide Bonding, Spirit Animals, WIP, alternative universe—not brothers, domesticity porn, unrealistic descriptions of sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:28:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 98,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24879997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/satashii/pseuds/satashii
Summary: EZ Reyes came online with his mother’s violent death and suffered the consequences of his actions in the aftermath. When Jimenez offers him a deal to turn evidence in on the Galindo cartel, he agreed as he’d brought shame on his tribe by his actions and it was a chance at redemption that he didn’t feel he deserved.  He just didn’t anticipate who his guide would be and the amount of trouble they’d generate for him. Miguel had goals—to legitimize the family business, enjoy life and his family. He didn’t anticipate any of the events that forced him online as a guide but now that he has a sentinel he’s not letting him go.Completely AU—ignores almost all of the plot points of the show after about episode 4 or 5.  Mildly dubious consent due to sentinel/guide bonding bringing the principles together.
Relationships: Emily Galindo/Miguel Galindo, Johnny "Coco" Cruz/Angel Reyes, Luisa "Adelita" Espina/Angel Reyes, Miguel Galindo/Ezekiel “EZ” Reyes
Comments: 15
Kudos: 24





	1. I-II

**Author's Note:**

> We begin in the desert of California, not far from the border...

_I. EZ_

EZ Reyes rode behind the dark SUV that had told him to follow, another behind him. The uneasiness he felt by being boxed in and made him want to fidget but he needed to focus on his ride beneath him. The rumbling purr, the vibrating of the engine as it burned fuel to propel him forward. The scent of the gasoline and the carried scents on the wind as he sped up through the desert, ignoring the dust kicked up in his face by the SUV in front of him. Angel’s idea to get out from Galindo’s thumb had him twisting inside, worried and afraid for the future. Jimenez sniffing around and pressuring him to be a better sentinel didn’t help at all—the guilt that he’d let down the tribe by participating in illegal activities at war with his familial ties to his brother Angel and to the club. 

He didn’t trust Adelita like Angel did—but he’d have to be blind and dumb not to notice his brother’s scent all over her. Angel was fucking her... which EZ knew was going to bite them all in the ass—not just Angel.Galindo’s and Emily’s son— Cristóbal—when he’d held him had made him want to purr and bury his face in the innocent baby scent, instincts raised as he identified the baby of his former girlfriend. The kid had cooed at him and he’d been hard pressed to leave him behind in Los Olividados’ encampment.

A baby that could have been his if he hadn’t screwed up his life permanently.

He was screwed both ways. Jimenez was one of the good guys. His cousin had given him a chance but... it had so many conditions. He couldn’t blame the other sentinel for being suspicious of him.He’d be suspicious of himself too.

Which left Galindo... which twisted his guts in another way and made his nose twitch from all the blood he’d been drenched in that one time with the Samoan incident.The heavy, coppery scent had burned it’s way into his sense memory which made his inner sentinel snarl, looking for enemies. Emily... she had married the man and he’d never given so much as a thought to the cartel boss before his deal with Jimenez. Emily had been in the rear view mirror of his life, his life constrained to four walls with a brief period in the middle of the day of yard time. He’d been in semi-protected custody meant for unbonded sentinel prisoners. Emily had been his pre-prison life that he’d firmly shut away. A dream that he barely remembered.

Seeing her again, crying for her child, injured.... it had thrown his mind into turmoil that he’d avoided for a long time. In the hospital, she’d asked him to help look for her son. Her son that he knew where he’d been almost the entire time. The bright fluorescent lights that buzzed, the smell of antiseptic and old blood. The floor wax that added a weird taint to everything. The scent of sickness that permeated the entire hospital that made him itch. She’d been so soft, pleading with him to help her. Help her son. Not knowing what she really was asking of him.

He was screwed no matter what he ended up doing.

And Angel was going to kill him. Probably. One way or the other.

But he should probably focus on where they were guiding him first. They were going further and further, away from the civilization of town and closer to the no man’s land of the border and into the canyons. Somehow... he was okay with wherever they were taking him. If they’d wanted to simply kill him they wouldn’t have done it in broad daylight.

Or maybe they just didn’t care who saw him going off with them?

No. They’d said someone wanted to talk to him. Jimenez would tell him to go with them. Keep his eyes and ears open. Report everything. Be careful. Be smart.

As they came around a curve and then up a small rise, he could see a cluster of dark SUVs parked in the valley amongst the cacti and scrub brush with the wall of the border visible in the distance over the hills and pine trees. The SUV ahead of him pulled up and the men in it got out, all of them watching him as he put down his kickstand. Taking off his helmet, he stood and dismounted his bike, the dry mud cracking slightly under his weight as he displaced some rocks. One of the men approached him and gestured for him to follow them...

Walking around the parked SUVs, he saw Galindo wearing his sunglasses and looking off at the border, his body held rigid like a tightly coiled spring, hands in the pockets of his dark three piece suit that was completely impractical out here. EZ must have made some noise because Galindo turned to face him, hair ruffling in breeze that moved through the valley causing the brush to rustle around him, the slide of twig against twig. He found his senses zeroing in on the man as he approached, each footfall sounding louder than it should but almost echoing as if he was underwater, a rhythmic boom sounding over and over as he felt himself break out into a sweat underneath his cut, heart rate speeding up and his breath catching in his throat, nose clogged suddenly before clearing as the wind brought a new scent to him.

Underneath the expensive aftershave cologne... male.... guide... musk... pain... a faint, old scent of blood. EZ’s head snapped up like a hunting hound, visually searching for the source of the scent. He analyzed and discarded each of the bodyguards around him including the one with the braids that needed to get over himself before focusing on Galindo.

Galindo, who hadn’t moved since EZ had gotten off his bike, and was trembling slightly in the warm afternoon sun like he’d been left out in subzero temperatures instead of the Southern California desert.EZ felt like his legs had become leaden weights and his feet sucked down into the earth with each step that took him closer to the man who was trembling like a leaf.

Nestor—the man with the braids who was Galindo’s head of security—seemed to finally clue in that something was going on and drew his gun from his shoulder holster and aimed it at EZ.EZ ignored it but Galindo didn’t, the sharp rebuke of “Nestor!” Cracking through the air even as a hand shot out and grabbed the gun out of the startled bodyguard’s hands and threw it away into the brush. Nestor said something to Galindo but Galindo ignored him, his gaze returning to EZ like a tractor beam and drawing him in closer even through the shaded sunglasses.

The hired muscle around them suddenly all stopped moving, as if someone had hit the pause button and EZ felt like there was a hook under his breast bone pulling him towards Galindo. His steps quickening, EZ stopped only when he was nose to nose with Galindo. This close, he could see through the dark lenses to see the man’s eyes were dilated, nostrils flaring, tongue nervously licking his lips—the pink contrasting with the pearl of his teeth even as his lips pouted slightly before he bit them back in a nervous gesture. A deep breath in through his nose and the scent that had drew him inflamed EZ’s senses, calling to him like a siren to sailors. Another deep breath, more intoxicating musk and the scent of an aroused male guide. Galindo shifted his weight slightly and EZ found himself mirroring his movement, not allowing more than an inch between their bodies. The heat palpable between them and pulling EZ to lean in closer and inhale deeply against the side of Galindo’s neck, right over the pulse point as Galindo arched his neck in offering making a deep purr escape EZ’s chest. The skin under his mouth pebbled as a shiver shook the lean body that he hadn’t realized his hands had come to rest on Galindo’s hips, cupping them possessively and pulling their hips together.

The low pitched moan that escaped Galindo’s mouth had EZ burying his face in the man’s neck, inhaling deeply and his tongue laving the pulse point and strong rope of muscle, teeth nipping gently in warning, his hands buried in the smooth material of the trousers, thumbs nudging at the fine cotton of the dress shirt to pull it loose and touch skin beneath. They were both hard and their erections brushed against each other through the cloth of EZ’s jeans and the tailored suit Galindo wore.

Galindo turned his face into EZ’s, his beard tickling EZ’s skin as their mouths connected like two magnets, tongues battling before twining together to dance then separating as they both tried to control the kiss. Galindo’s hands on EZ’s chest, clutching at his pecs before they slid up his neck and one cupped the back of his head to pull EZ deeper into the kiss while the other arm slid around his neck to anchor himself after discarding both their sunglasses. Hips giving a thrust into EZ’s as he nipped at the tongue tangoing with his. EZ found himself pulling one of Galindo’s legs up to open up his hips, his other hand pulling on the fantastic handful of ass he could feel though the cloth. Galindo gave a cry that was swallowed by EZ as ground instinctively into EZ’s body.

The press of the guide’s shields around him pulsating in hunger as it surrounded them, EZ let his senses spike to focus on Galindo—the glitter of his barely open eyes, the panting sweet mint of his breath that told EZ he’d been sucking on a breath mint recently. The light slick of sweat that clung to his skin giving it a salty tang when EZ ran his tongue along the line of his neck. The heave of each labored breath that made him feel like he’d run miles instead of just kissing. He felt drunk yet sober as could be, each of his senses focused on the guide trembling in his hands as Galindo ducked his head into EZ’s chest, hiding his face.

“Hey,” EZ whispered. “Hey.”

It took a moment but Galindo looked up at him, dark eyes hesitant and unlike anything EZ had previously observed from the man he thought of as a privileged businessman.He was emotionally unshielded as he met EZ’s gaze. EZ could tell that Galindo was beyond unsettled and unsure of what was happening. He’d just seen the man a week ago and he hadn’t been an online guide then. EZ had been able to tell the man was a sensitive due to the distress surrounding his son’s’ kidnapping but something had finally pushed the man online. EZ wanted to ask what happened but knew that they had too many witnesses around to ask.

Remembering their audience, he looked around. The bodyguards were all frozen in place, eyes wide as they stared at EZ and their boss.EZ had heard about reactions like this with powerful guides... but usually this took some training. “Hey—want to let them go?” He asked gently, tilting his head to indicate their audience.

Galindo—who he should probably remember his first name—eyed their audience and his eyes fluttered open wider and there was a sensation of release around them. Men stumbled and Nestor swore loudly.

“Boss!” Nestor said, having somehow obtained another gun that he had pointed at EZ but hesitated to get closer, eyeing his Boss wrapped halfway around EZ.

Galindo pulled back forcefully out of EZ’s grip to stand on his own two feet, his previously neat and put together suit now rumpled and with his shirt half untucked. Blinking in the sunlight, he swayed slightly without EZ to support him. The empathic shields that he’d woven instinctually around EZ and himself tightened but then released, unstable without a completed bond. The samples of taste, touch, sight, sound and smell was enough to form a proto-bond but they’d either need prolonged or sexual contact to form a permanent one. They were beyond compatible... one of the mythical true bonds that could be triggered by just close proximity. There was no way Galindo or EZ would be able to back away from bonding... just a question of when and where.

Before EZ’s eyes, it was as if his guide pulled himself together, back straightening and shoulders held back as he tossed his head and glared at his employees.“Nestor put your gun away,” was the growled command.

“Boss?” Nestor sounded confused as he pointed his gun at the ground but didn’t put it away. “What is going on? You’re a guide?”

At the question, EZ cast his senses around him more fully. Two of the bodyguards were very, very weak sentinels—probably only a single increased sense each neither of which was scent or hearing. Nestor was also one but he was only maybe slightly more powerful than the other two—maybe two senses elevated or one really sensitive one. Either way, Nestor hadn’t known his boss was a guide so the coming online must be very recent. Even a D class sentinellike Nestor would have eventually figured it out given enough time—Galindo practically oozed guide to EZ’s senses. When Galindo replied to Nestor, his tone seemed surprised. “I am... I guess I am....”

“My guide,” EZ huffed, stepping up again to crowd against Galindo who allowed him to wrap his arms around his waist and leaned into EZ’s body.

Galindo didn’t protest but did put his face instinctively into EZ’s shoulder to take a few breaths before looking back at Nestor. “Nestor,” he drawled, “give the mayor my regrets and reschedule. I want you to go back to my office and act like nothing has changed.”

“Boss?” Nestor asked, his face confused.

“Nothing has changed. Do not talk to my mother. Do not talk to my wife. If anyone asks where I am you can tell them I’m in negotiations,” Galindo gave instructions coolly to his men, his right hand stroking along EZ’s back underneath his cut and face implacable.

“And if news comes in about your son?” Nestor seemed to be unsure what to do despite his instructions.

“He has his cell phone—leave a message to call back only,” EZ said, his eyes meeting Galindo’s, trying to tell the man to trust him.He’d need to quickly figure out how to tell his guide what he knew without his guide eviscerating him for keeping Cristóbal’s whereabouts secret. He understood the rage of a parent protecting their child—and Cristóbal had just legally become as much EZ’s as he was Galindo’s. Sentinel-Guide bonds had powerful legal protections for the bonded pair. Cristóbal would be coming home tomorrow—once the bond was sealed there would be no way for Adelita to hide Cristóbal from EZ. Once the bond was secure... he would go hunting for Cristobal who carried the same blood as his guide. Adelita better be taking good care of the kid—and he realized he was growling lightly at the thoughts of violence he’d bring if Cristóbal was harmed in any way shape or form.

Galindo met EZ’s eyes and nodded in agreement, head tilted slightly as if he was seeing straight into EZ’s thoughts, seemingly pleased at whatever he saw. “Go Nestor. I will reach out to you tomorrow.”

Nestor nodded, shaking himself as he started giving orders to the others to move it. EZ didn’t waste any time and pulled Galindo with him towards his bike, hands clasped tightly together. He could feel the mental caress of his guide’s shields wrapping tightly around them so he wouldn’t zone in the bright light and noise of men getting back into their vehicles and slamming the doors. “Have you ever rode on one of these before?” He asked as he bent down to get his spare helmet out of his saddlebags.

“Yes” was the simple answer from his guide as he took the bucket style helmet from him, their hands touching.

EZ paused, swallowing hard at the jolt of arousal from the simple touch that licked up his arms. “Do you need help?” He asked dumbly as Galindo put the helmet on, threading the strap easily underneath his chin. Despite the helmet not matching his clothing and looking slightly ridiculous together, EZ leaned in and kissed the man who eagerly returned it, body again crowding into EZ’s and toes touching as they slotted together, backing EZ into his bike. The feel of his guide.... he could get lost in it if he wasn’t careful. The seductive nature of how their bodies fell into rhythm automatically... and this was before the bond settled. What would it be like in a day or two? Years? Decades?

Separating, EZ grabbed his own helmet from where he’d stashed it on the tank and mounted the bike in a well practiced motion, settling himself and putting the stand up before turning the throttle to start the motor rumbling beneath him. He then reached for Galindo and pulled him over the bike to settle him right behind him, allowing the man’s arms to wrap around his waist in a tight caress before finding a more firm grip for traveling, hips slotted tightly together on the seat. Between the rumbling of the motor below him and Galindo’s cock slotting into his ass, EZ realized it was going to be interesting traveling very far and not wrecking his bike or spilling them off of it.

Mentally steeling himself, EZ pushed off and headed back the way he’d come. He knew where he needed to take them.

***

_I.Miguel_

Miguel Galindo’s day had been trying so far and the migrainous headache that was pulsing at his temples made his mood and his voice sharp, his fatigue from the limited hours of sleep he’d gotten making him feel particularly vicious. After seeing the younger Reyes brother leave his wife’s hospital room, she had lied to him about having visitors. His skin had felt too tight since the events at the church the night before and he’d almost lost it on her when she lied to his face, implying that he wasn’t man enough to have protected her, that he was weak, powerless, and most damningly, impotent. Emily had pushed his buttons and he’d felt like something had broken in his soul at her perfidy. She’d asked him if he even wanted Cristóbal back... and he’d wanted to rage at her, ask her why her ex-boyfriend had been seen leaving her room, why she would want her ex there instead of her husband. Lost in the hurricane of loss and pain, he’d ordered Nestor to pick up the junior Reyes and bring him to Miguel for a chat—without the rest of the Mayans knowing about it.

He wasn’t stupid or blind.His mother had delivered a well researched profile to him before his marriage to Emily, trying to convince him that she was the wrong choice for a man of his family and heritage.He was aware of Emily’s former relationship with a convict and how serious the relationship had been—marriage would have been the next step before Ezekiel Reyes had been sent to prison after shooting a cop which had ended the relationship messily. That had only been the start of what his mother saw as making Emily an unsuitable partner for him. The obvious social climbing nature of her choice to date and marry him had been the talk of the community for a time and his mother had not missed any chance at reminding him of Emily’s unsuitableness. Not for her Ivy League educated son. Not this white, milksop of a woman who did not belong despite being fluent in Spanish and her trying to learn about his community’s culture. He’d ignored his mother’s concerns and married her, what he’d once thought was the love of his life.

Lately... many things had been so uncertain that he’d previously thought could not change. His marriage. His family. His business.

So he’d do what he could... because Emily had shoved him out of her hospital room verbally. She may feel that he was powerless but he wasn’t. He was the boss of the Galindo Cartel. He was Miguel Galindo. And he would make sure that Reyes understood who Emily’s husband was—even if she had forgotten who he was to her.

He had a meeting with the mayor to tell her the bad news about his new plans for adjusting the land development he’d been planning—at the development site where he could possibly negotiate a better deal from her. Nestor had driven him out to the site and he was walking it, still turning over the difficult conversation to come in his mind when Nestor’s cell chirped.Nestor, ever his shadow, had looked at the message and then relayed it. “Boss—they found him. They’re bringing him out here now.”

Nodding, he continued to walk the site, dry gravel and dirt crunching underneath his dress shoes that were completely the wrong type of footwear to walk around here in. There was a bit of a breeze in the small valley and he could just see the border wall on the horizon between a gap in the hills to the south. Scrub brush, old dead pines, and cacti abounded around him with a dry creek bed that formed the road. Several bulldozers and other construction equipment were parked alongside the mountain wall where it made a vertical wall and shelf, protecting the equipment from heavy rains that came seasonally. The mayor was due here in a little under an hour. Hopefully that would leave enough time for him to intimidate Reyes into never looking at or speaking with his wife again.

Otherwise he would order Nestor to take care of the man permanently. The Mayans would police their own, no reason for him to get personally involved over a prospect that didn’t have the club’s protection.

Emily would need to remember who she’d married. Who was the father of their child.

His head was buzzing by the time he heard the motors of an approaching motorcycle echoing louder through the canyons than the cars that accompanied it. He headed back to the protection of Nestor’s men when Nestor started looking anxious. Nestor was outwardly calm but the fidgeting and pacing towards Miguel gave it away. He complied with his head of security’s nonverbal request if only to make the day go faster. Miguel craved the quiet of his home, the weight of his son in his arms when he awoke at night and they needed father-son bonding time. He missed it so much...

The first SUV pulled up to reveal the lone figure on his motorcycle sandwiched between them. Miguel felt a weird mental pull towards the man as he pulled up on his motorcycle, calmly dismounting and walking towards where he stood. His headache, which had been pounding, went silent as if it had never been there and an odd euphoric feeling took it’s place so swiftly he found himself inhaling sharply at the transition. The closer Reyes came... he felt almost lightheaded, swaying slightly as his vision narrowed to just the lone man and his slightly bow legged gait.

His security team stepped forward to frisk Reyes and Miguel was surprised at his instinctual reaction to them touching Reyes. They... should not touch him. A pressure built in his chest and released when he took another stuttering inhale and his men stopped, letting Reyes continue to come closer until he was within inches of Miguel. Miguel was distantly aware he was shaking but all of his attention was focused on the man before him. Reyes was focused on Miguel, eyes narrowed, nostrils flared, head slightly tilted back as if he was tasting the air around them, head cocked slightly to the side as they regarded each other. The conversation that he’d originally planned to have with Reyes had escaped him—Miguel could only now stare at the man who’d somehow changed since the last time they’d encountered each other.

Nestor, sensing something weird was happening, raised his gun to point it at Reyes and Miguel snapped. “Nestor!” Was the order and Miguel found his hands on the gun and disarming his security chief who looked at him with betrayal as he threw it away into the scrub around them. Miguel ignored this and turned his attention back to Reyes who had come even closer, just a few inches separating them, their chests almost touching. Nestor said something further but Miguel ignored him, swaying slightly closer to Reyes who crowded closer to him. Pressure was increasing in his chest again and Miguel found himself taking quick breaths to try and alleviate it but the pressure just kept building—not painful but making it difficult to breathe.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nestor pull a second gun and aim it at Reyes and he instinctively pushed mentally, feeling his men around them just stop. The magnetic pull between him and Reyes seemed unstoppable and their chests brushed together. The slide of cloth against his skin like sandpaper drew Miguel’s attention to the fact that he was rock hard, making him sway. Reyes shifted with him and Miguel found himself offering his neck to the man, which Reyes closed all distance between their bodies to press his nose against the pulse point. The presence in front of him was overwhelming him, intoxicating, lust inducing.

Confusion and lust warred in Miguel’s overloaded brain as the side of Reyes’ nose tracked the rope of muscle and tendon to just behind his ear and a rumbling purr escaped the man, making Miguel shiver in response.He buried his face in the firmness of Reyes’ pecs as the man’s hands gripped Miguel’s hips and pulled them flush with each other, cocks aligning through multiple layers of cloth. Experimentally, Miguel rocked his hips into Reyes’ and the rumbling growl of returned hunger and the tightening of the grip on his hips told Miguel that Reyes agreed with his current train of thought.

Needing to get rid of his shades, Miguel removed his own and then Reyes, their dark eyes meeting, both unable to look away as the shades tumbled to the ground, discarded. Threading one hand to the back of Reyes head, Miguel pulled and they were kissing, faces tilting instinctually to align as their mouths touched in a first hesitant meeting before opening and then the battle began, eyes sliding shut.One of Reyes’ hands migrated to Miguel’s thigh, pulling his hips open to allow for better alignment as the other clasped a handful of asscheek. Miguel didn’t care and gave another thrust of his hips into Reyes, the man’s firm muscles engaging to hold him in place and give leverage for another thrust, underwear becoming damp from precome.

Miguel lost himself in the battle for dominance of their mouths, the nip and dance of tongue and teeth, sharing breath. Reyes tasted faintly of something sugary and artificial orange flavoring, teasing Miguel as he chased and gave as good as he got. Forgotten was where they were, their surroundings, his security staff. All that was important right now was the young Reyes brother, the prospect, who was grinding back just as desperately.

Breaking to catch his breath, he buried his face beneath Reyes’ chin, in his breastbone and panted against the cotton henley shirt underneath, one hand fisted in the leather of Reyes’ cut. The hand on his thigh released so he could stand on his own but he leaned heavily into the biker, unwilling to leave the warm shield of his body. The sound of a bird calling overhead was startlingly loud, pulling Miguel back to awareness of his surroundings but he didn’t lift his head, body cradled by Reyes protectively.

The soft call of “hey” was Reyes trying to get him to make eye contact and he reluctantly did once one of the large palms found his chin and guided it to meet the other man’s eyes. Reyes’ face was soft, open, and... like he wanted to get on his knees and worship Miguel, like Miguel was the only person in existence that mattered. Miguel drank in the feelings that he could sense from Reyes and it was a powerful high that shattered his composure into tiny shards, the feeling of a bolt of lightning striking his very soul. He felt remade in that moment as his world shifted and tilted on it’s axis before resuming it’s normal spin. 

Reyes hand came up to cup Miguel’s chin and he went with it, relaxing into the cradle of his palm like a cat and rubbed his cheek against it. Reyes eyes’ dilated and the heat in his gaze made Miguel clutch at the fabric under his fingers. He wanted to submerse himself in the warm feelings that both caressed his mind as well as buffeted him with their strength. Something intangible passed between them when their eyes met and Miguel could feel something lashing them together to make them into a single unit—a tether that caused a fluttering sensation below his breast bone that pulled him undeniably towards Reyes.

Reyes’ attention was pulled away by some movement and the world started moving again around them as his attention was diverted away from Miguel. The loss of attention was cruel, a sharp blade that cut through Miguel’s side and he felt the first stirrings of a headache threatening but not yet there, just licking at the edges of his consciousness. Reyes hand curled around his neck with a finger touching the angle of Miguel’s jaw and rubbing back in forth in the hollow of his neck. Miguel, uncertain now of what was between them but still feeling the pull, let his gaze drop, fingers gripping tighter to not let Reyes leave him before his gaze returned to Reyes, pleading for him not to go.

“Hey?Want to let them go?” Reyes said softly, indicating with his head towards Miguel’s security force that was arrayed around them.His eyes held Miguel reassuringly, not rushing him.

Turning his head to look, Miguel could see that none of his men were moving—all of them frozen in place as if held by some invisible force. Nestor was frozen in a half crouch, his second, backup weapon, in the process of being raised and eyes wide as he stared at Miguel and Reyes. Almost everyone else had a gun in hand, most pointed towards Reyes. Miguel became aware of that threatening headache coming closer—he was holding them still. An invisible grip on his men so they wouldn’t hurt Reyes that was becoming harder to hold as the headache loomed in his brain.

A voice he didn’t know whispered to him to relax. To let them go, eyes fluttering as he exhaled and released something he’d been holding onto without knowing that felt like a stretched string breaking. He did let go as his shoulders relaxed and his hands untangled themselves from Reyes clothing as he let out a held breath that he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The effect was instantaneous and more than one of his men fell, overbalancing.The remainder now had their guns trained on them—Miguel and Reyes. Nestor swore, calling Reyes a puta, which had Miguel’s back stiffening in rage. Reyes didn’t let him say anything however and a strong hand on his back and the one on his neck reminded him to stay calm as he shivered in the heat. The warm heat and weight of those hands kept Miguel from lashing out, but barely, .

“Boss!” Nestor exclaimed, looking crazily between Miguel and Reyes. His usually unflappable head of security looked strung out and was sweating heavily, nostrils flared as he stared angrily at Reyes. Miguel was sure if he hadn’t been standing next to Reyes that the man would be full of bullet holes put there by Nestor—why he wasn’t sure.

Miguel pulled himself out of Reyes grip and put himself between Nestor and Reyes, hands fisting at his side in anger as he shielded Reyes with his body. Reyes felt like the sun at his back, pushing and pulling at him to pull him back into orbit but he ignored it as he glared at his security chief. “Nestor put your gun away,” he growled at the man.

Nestor didn’t immediately obey him and Miguel found himself repeating the command as a snarl, pushing mentally at the same time. Most of the men dropped their weapons instantly, a murmur of apologies trailing after. Nestor gave him a betrayed look but reluctantly pointed his gun at the ground. Confused, Nestor asked, “Boss? What’s going on? You’re a guide?”

Miguel’s ears were full of a a roaring, high pitched ringing noise as his brain stuttered to a halt. Guide? Him?He’d only tested as a latent in grade school, much to his father’s disappointment. There had been no guides or sentinels in the family for several generations but his father had been greatly disappointed that while Miguel had the genetic pattern that suggested he had guide tendencies, he was inactive and likely to remain so his entire life. Only a great emotional stress would be likely to change that... Cristóbal.... his son.... Emily.... his mother’s confession about his brother...

He was dimly aware of movement at his back and a strong chest nudged into him from behind with muscular arms coming around him to cradle Miguel. He instinctively leaned into Reyes’ body and the ground felt like it moved under his feat before settling at Reyes’ touch.Nestor before him felt different than the blank men on either side of him. Two others in the circle took a step towards him before Miguel mentally pushed back, freezing them from coming closer. Nestor, however, took a few stumbling steps closer but Miguel backed more firmly into Reyes behind him, the firm arm that encircled his waist holding him tight. Miguel could sense all of the men in the circle around him with his eyes closed—Nestor a flickering candle that was barely lit compared to the bonfire behind him whose arms were sheltering Miguel.

“I am.... I guess I am....” He was a guide. The title... name felt right. And the man beside him... Reyes... was his sentinel. He was sure of it the moment the thought flitted through his mind and Miguel found himself mentally reaching out and wrapping himself in Reyes to anchor himself as the revelation threatened to make him crumble to the ground. The moment he reached out to the man, he felt balance returning and the world around him stopping it’s mad spin.

The huffed, low pitched rumble of “my guide” that stirred the hair on the nape of his neck solidified the label. The younger Reyes brother was his sentinel. His. The fierce possessiveness at that term that stirred in him made him feel dizzy anew but his earlier arousal flared again. The python-like limbs around his waist tightened and shifted, one hand drifting down to cup his crotch protectively while the other hand found his abdomen and splayed across it like a brand despite the clothing separating their skin. He was so aware of Reyes...the support he felt flowing between them to balance each other.

Momentarily, Miguel drew upon Reyes’ presence before straightening and standing on his own, inches away from Reyes’ heat. Crossing his arms in an annoyed gesture, he addressed his security team in his usual, bored drawl. “Nestor—give the mayor my regrets and reschedule. I want you to go back to my office and act as if nothing has changed.”

Nestor’s already wide eyes goggled at him before giving a distrustful glare at Reyes behind him. “Boss?”Nestor’s tone belied how concerned and confused he was. Miguel would never have given such an order ten minutes ago.

“Nothing has changed—do not talk to my mother or my wife.If anyone asks where I am you are to tell them I’m in negotiations,” Miguel instructed, being purposeful and direct as he turned back to Reyes. Reyes watched him carefully before pulling Miguel back into his chest and he went willingly. Miguels hands relaxed from their clenched fists to find the smooth cotton of cloth and get between Reyes’ shirt and his leather cut over the small of the man’s back. The material was slightly damp from sweat and Miguel could feel the contraction of the powerfully toned sentinel’s muscles underneath his hands. He needed to feel that skin but the audience could go away. He found his nose bumping against Reyes’ chest and then following the neck to nudge in the man’s pulse point, teeth nipping lightly at the skin before his tongue swiped it. The tales of how sentinels and guides marked each other... the instinct to bite hard until his mouth was full of blood... it was there hovering on the edge of consciousness. However, it wasn’t time yet.

It would be soon—and none of his men needed to witness the private joining of sentinel and guide. The claiming would be fierce and soon. Miguel could almost feel the brush of fur against his skin of an animal that wasn’t there... signs of a spirit animal manifestation that only class A or alpha sentinel/guide pairs had. He could hear a faint echo of a pair of wolves howling and knew that they weren’t wild animals that he was hearing.

Nestor, a look of consternation on his face with a deep frown, wasn’t satisfied by the answers given. “And if news comes in about your son?” He pressed.

Cristóbal... Miguel’s breath caught at the mention of his son, aware Reyes had stiffened at the mention of him. The rumbling growl that came from deep within Reyes’ chest and the fierce look on his face as he looked at Miguel made something in Miguel’s gut clench and release. A sense of protection, family, willingness to hunt... and something else—a wariness all were projected by the sentinel. Miguel let himself examine the emotions and realized quickly that they all were rooted in the pull between them—his sentinel would go on the hunt for him. He was sure. All he would need to do was ask and Reyes would be off in search of their son—because Miguel knew that Cristóbal now belonged to both of them instinctively. Reyes answered for them both, “He has his cell phone—leave a message to call back only.”

Miguel approved and knew that Reyes had picked up on it, the man’s chest puffing out slightly as he preened under Miguel’s gaze. Reyes’ dark eyes promised that Cristóbal would be back in his arms soon. Miguel believed that promise all the way to the depths of his soul. Not releasing the held gaze, Miguel instructed Nestor, voice firm. “Go Nestor.I will reach out to you tomorrow.”

He didn’t see Nestor’s response as Reyes started to move. Reyes stooped and grabbed both of theirs sunglasses, handing Miguel’s back to him which he put on after absently brushing the accumulated dust off the lenses with the hem of his shirt. He then held out his hand to Miguel, which Miguel took. The warm frisson of contact between their skin sending shivers down Miguel’s back as he was led towards the softail Harley. Miguel found himself expanding his shields automatically around his sentinel, aware of all the possible stimuli that could easily send him into a zone—it was so bright and warm out. The sounds of his security team returning to their vehicles and the engines turning over were loud as they echoed off the rock walls of the valley around them. Reyes seemed unbothered, heading straight for his bike with confidence and a tug on Miguel’s hand.

When they reached the bike, Reyes lifted his helmet and placed it on his head, not fastening the chin strap. He dropped Miguel’s hand to lean down and remove a second one from the left saddlebag. Not straightening, he looked up at Miguel and asked if he’d ever ridden a motorcycle before.

Amused, Miguel found his lips quirking in a small smile as he pulled the extra helmet out of Reyes’ hands. “Yes,” he told Reyes as he put the helmet on and fiddled with the chin strap, fingers feeling for the tricky catch that didn’t want to latch.

“Do you need help?” Was the slightly breathy question as Reyes stood, hovering as Miguel tried to get the chin strap to latch, fingers paused midair was he tried to decide whether to touch Miguel. The obvious arousal in how Reyes’ breath hitched and he adjusted himself was telling. 

Miguel’s smile broadened into a grin as he finally got the chinstrap to tighten down like it should.He didn’t move away as Reyes leaned into him and their mouths met again, tongues resuming their interrupted duel. The firm press of Reyes’ body against his made Miguel shudder as he let Reyes envelope him, loosing track of time and space until they bumped into the bike. Reyes’ grip on Miguel kept him from tumbling over this time. Consternation showed on Reyes’ face before he put a few inches of space between their bodes so he could mount the softail, then extending a hand to help Miguel on behind him.

It was a tight fit for two, fully grown men on the bike. Miguel’s cock was nestled into the groove of Reyes’ ass and he couldn’t help the small thrust he gave as the engine purred to life below him, vibrations adding to the heady overstimulation. Wrapping his arms around Reyes, waist, Miguel tucked his face into the dip between neck and shoulder, letting his face rub against the sensitive, exposed skin. Reyes responded by inhaling deeply, letting his head fall back to expose more of his neck to Miguel’s mouth which pressed a soft kiss in the spot where the bonding mark would be, eyes sliding shut briefly as he reveled in the pulse of feelings—love, possession, obsession, hunger, and a fierce protectiveness. Opening his eyes, Miguel spoke, just loud enough to be heard by Reyes over the motor. “We need someplace more private than this... preferably with a bed.”

Reyes nodded, head coming back to level as he kicked the stand out from under the bike and balanced with his legs. “Hold on,” was the order as he pushed off and the bike began traversing the rough terrain. Miguel held tight, not moving his face from where it was tucked, nose pressed into the skin as he concentrated on shielding Reyes long enough to get them someplace more appropriate for a bonding.

***

_II. EZ_

EZ tried desperately to ignore the tight grip of arms around him and the hard cock he could feel through the thick material of his jeans. His toes, in the work boots that he preferred, were curling as he tried to focus. His senses kept up a litany or ‘guide, my guide’ that was difficult to ignore. Galindo was helping—really—by shielding him instinctively. He’d not felt both in control as well as out of it ever like this. The torture of waiting... but the primitive need to take his guide back to his den where he could nest around him and claim him. His inner sentinel was torn between the disparate needs... and he was barely hanging on to his control.

Focusing on the road once they hit pavement, he found himself on autopilot. They couldn’t go home to Galindo’s house—too many other people and it wasn’t EZ’s territory. EZ found himself making the turns towards his childhood home and less than a half hour later, he pulled into the backyard and parked his bike in it’s usual slot. The trailer remained parked where it usually was, yard kept neat. Pulling out his cell, before Galindo could say anything, EZ hit his Pop’s contact info. When his father picked up, EZ spoke quietly yet insistently. “Pops... I need you to find somewhere else to stay tonight.”

There was a pregnant pause over the open line and EZ could practically see his father’s look of suspicion—which was completely justified given EZ’s current situation. “Why?”

Galindo chose this moment to dismount from the bike and EZ put the kickstand down at the movement, unhappy about the space between them. Licking his lips while he watched Galindo stalk about the small and cramped yard, checking it out, EZ tried to explain. “I found my guide.... I need some space or I don’t know if I’ll react well to another person—even family—around.”

The following pause was less judgmental. “Just tonight?” His father finally asked, just as softly.

“At least for tonight. Please keep Angel away.” EZ pleaded softly. Galindo had taken off the helmet and placed it carefully back in the saddlebag it’d come from and was watching EZ, eyes intense and facial expression supportive as a hand reached out and stroked over EZ’s bicep, the touch reassuring as each fingertip traced the curve of the muscle.He was calm and waiting for EZ, willing to accept his lead. 

His father agreed then added, “but mijo....I want to meet them,” his father tagged on. It didn’t escape EZ’s notice that his father had avoided a gendered pronoun.... his father always had been more observant than anyone gave him credit for—even as a regressed inactive sentinel.

EZ had.... experienced a bit more broadening of his sexual horizons in prison than he maybe would have otherwise.

He’d considered himself 100% heterosexual going in.... coming out he’d told himself that what mattered was that he cared about the person and that casual or coerced sex was never something he really wanted again—of either sex. It hadn’t all been consensual in prison but he’d been relatively lucky and able to defend himself compared to others.Being in sentinel custody had helped a lot but it was lonely circumstances... and lonely men took risks they’d otherwise never contemplate.He’d been in prison over a month before accepting his first mutual hand job, a couple weeks after that he’d learned how to blow a man and been blown in return. Anal play had been on the menu but he’d drawn the line at allowing another man to penetrate him but had pitched before but it’d been a rare occurrence since his senses tended to go haywire with the act. Now, he suspected it was his inner sentinel wanting only his guide that had made him hold back. The things he’d learned from other sentinels in prison... official educational materials had been minimal but his informal education in sentinel-guide relationships had been thorough despite the sense blockers that were mandatory in prison.

His Pop obviously had suspected more than he’d let on.He’d always supportive in his biweekly visits to EZ in prison—much more regular and supportive than Angel’s which had been stressful and unhelpful. His father had never asked about how EZ was doing, only updated him on the goings on around the community and the latest on whatever the lawyers had said. It had been his father that had brought his cousin Kevin to visit when Angel was busy, excusing himself once the other sentinel had sat down at the visitation table and studied EZ like a bug under a microscope. Whatever Jimenez had seen, it had been enough for him to start laying the groundwork for getting EZ out as an informant, giving him a shot at redemption that he was grateful for... but was going to be a big issue going forward. How could he inform on his Guide? EZ knew that Galindo’s expensive lawyers were going to earn their money shortly. Somehow he knew that his cousin would work with him `even if he had been playing hardball.EZ knew Kevin had been unable to bond with multiple guide partners and had only agreed to helping EZ after he’d learned what had made him come online—his mother’s death—had led directly to what had put him in prison.

But his Pop was still on the line and waiting for him to speak.He hadn’t called EZ mijo since before he’d been sent to prison—it’d been more what his mom had called him. “You will Pops. I think you’ll approve of him.”

The audible sigh sounded relieved as it traversed the distance between them. “Mijo... I will wait for you to tell me it is safe to return.”

“Thanks Pops,” EZ replied before hanging up. Galindo had pressed himself until their sides had aligned, no space between them. Sliding his phone into his pocket, EZ didn’t resist the siren call of his Guide and placed a soft peck on his Guide’s forehead. “Inside,” he urged but didn’t physically move.

“I hope you’re talking the house and not the trailer,” Galindo’s voice was amused as he pulled back enough to meet EZ’s gaze.

EZ blushed, aware that his childhood home and the trailer in which he’d been crashing the last several months was not up to the usual standards Galindo was used to given their relative modesty and lack of displays of wealth. “No. Let me get the door,” EZ mumbled as he pulled his keys out, going to open the door and almost dropping them in haste.

Entering the house, EZ let Galindo pass him by before firmly shutting and locking the door behind them. A locked door wouldn’t really slow Angel down but it’d at least give EZ enough time to get dressed if he heard the lock click. His brother didn’t always respect barriers or social norms with family and had a tendency to wander in to borrow a six pack or watch tv with their Pops even though he hadn’t lived at home in years. Galindo walked through the kitchen, hands in his pockets as he took in EZ’s childhood home, expression curious.

“This way,” EZ indicated, leading his guide towards his bedroom that he hadn’t used other than a dumping ground for laundry in weeks.Thanking god that he’d chosen to do laundry a few days ago and picked up his room then, EZ stepped into his bedroom just as the buzz of the air conditioner started, startling him by the loudness of the noise even if it was several rooms away, his hearing strobing as it spiked and he clapped his hands over his ears to try and prevent the beginning of a zone.

“No... don’t,” was the soft call from Galindo. EZ had closed his eyes to prevent himself from spiking on a second sense and he could smell his guide as he stepped close. The faint, hesitant touch of hands covering his own that were cupped over his ears. “Reyes....Reyes.....” was the repetitive call of his Guide, asking him to come back to him.

He lost an uncertain amount of time and when he was able to refocus and open his eyes, Galindo was standing in front of him, noses almost touching but pressed together from their knees to their shoulders. He’d lost the sunglasses and his hands were still over EZ’s, repeating his last name over and over but face worried. Swaying slightly, EZ swallowed and his hands lifted off his ears experimentally.

His hearing felt at normal levels and Galindo fell silent, waiting.

“It’s Ezekiel.... or EZ,” EZ offered.

A quirk of the lips before the expression was smoothed out. “Ezekiel... EZ.... Ezekiel....” the low purr of his name on Galindo’s lips made EZ lean forward to chase them but he was denied by the man pulling back. “And mine is Miguel in case you don’t remember.”

“Miguel,” EZ breathed against his guide’s lips before he captured them, the kiss hungry and mouth opening beneath him. His hands pulled Miguel to him, finding the already loosened shirt and sliding underneath to find the skin underneath that trembled under his hands like a wild animal about to take flight. Breaking apart to take in air, he dove back in again after a pull of breath, Miguel’s arms wrapped around his shoulder’s as their bodies swayed in the center of the room. Hands explored and he felt his cut being pushed off and back, pulling his arms as it slid down and off to fall on the floor with a thwap of leather on the wood floor.

EZ began consciously shifting them towards the bed and rather than push Miguel down he broke the embrace long enough to pull back and yank his shirt up and off, discarding it to follow his cut on the floor. Miguel watched as his hands next traveled to his belt and he undid the heavy leather and pulled the tongue out of the buckle before shoving his jeans down where they were stopped by his boots. Swearing, he leaned down and made quick work of the laces on both boots, removing them and then shucking his clothes completely in one swift move to stand before Miguel naked, cock standing at attention.

Miguel was still as a statue, eyes burning as they took all of EZ in, gaze possessive and hungry. The feeling of the instinctive shields that Miguel had raised around them was like a warm wind that surrounded him and pulled EZ towards him. Miguel did not move other than to meet him, mouth to mouth, hands cupping EZ’s face. EZ’s own hands found themselves seeking out buttons, belt and zipper.

The jacket, vest, and dress shirt parted and his hands felt the smooth, lean muscles underneathas his hands followed the lines of Miguel’s body, mapping by touch. The kiss broke and Miguel moaned, head falling back and back arching to press into EZ as his mouth began descending in a hot trail of nipping kisses and swipes of tongue as he tasted his guide. His hands found both pecs, cradling them as his fingers sought out the weighty muscle and peaked nibs of the tight nipple buds.

Mouth finding the dip where the clavicles met the breast bone, EZ breathed in the scent of his guide, focusing on the salty tang of sweat on his tongue and the thunderous cacophony of the rapid heartbeat under his mouth. The texture change from the nipple that he rolled in his thumb and the flutter of the muscles between the ribs under his spread fingers as they opened for each stuttering breath. Miguel was moaning his name and cursing in both spanish and English, urging him to never stop but holding himself still for EZ to explore as he willed, pliant, willing to be devoured, consumed whole if that was what EZ wished.

Pushing the layers of cloth off Miguel’s shoulders, EZ’s hands followed the curve of each rib, tickling lightly in the armpit before one hand snuck up and over the traps to curl around Miguel’s neck and pull their mouths together for another kiss, swallowing the last cry of his own name. His other hand followed around to the back, finding the line of the spine and holding there protectively in the small curve above the hips as he gave a small thrust forward. He’d opened the slacks and push the boxer briefs below down with them and their cocks met for the first time. Miguel’s hands shook off the layers of shirt, vest and jacket before finding EZ’s hips, holding him in place and setting a regular circular rhythm that ground them together, the head of both cocks leaking to provide just a little bit of lubrication that wasn’t near enough.

It was rough but EZ was in heaven, drunk on his senses that were overwhelmed yet focused like a sniper’s sights on Miguel—no danger of a zone. As the kiss broke so they could both breathe, he could feel Miguel toeing off his shoes and the hand EZ had on his guide’s back slide south over the bare skin of a firm asscheek which he squeezed appreciatively which elicited a high pitched whine followed by swearing as his fingers found the cleft and teased down the line of skin between the firm globes. Miguel was trembling like a leaf in the wind, overstimulated and moments from coming just from a few rubs and kissing like a teenager. EZ pulled and tumbled backwards onto his bed, cradling Miguel to him to avoid any mishaps as he landed sprawled across EZ’s lap, pants around his knees, trapping him.

Making a frustrated snarl, Miguel squirmed in EZ’s hold and managed to rid himself of his pants and underwear, leaving him in just his socks. The annoyed glare as he threw his clothes on the floor made EZ grin as he carefully removed his hands from ass and neck to gently pull a foot to him and remove first one sock and then the other. The change in pace had Miguel staring at him half frustrated half love struck but he waited for EZ to do what he wanted.

Casting the socks away, EZ’s hands returned to pull around Miguel’s hips to get a better angle as he reclined on top of the navy comforter, pillow bunched under his shoulders. Miguel remained kneeling above him, one eyebrow arched in question even as his chest rose and fell with quick, short breaths. His guide was beautiful.... and unmarked.

He would need to change that.

Returning to his earlier place, one hand cradled the left pec, palm over where he could feel the heart beating strongly in sync with the sound in his ears that he would never lose in a crowd.The other hand tugged on a hip to position Miguel just where he wanted. Hissing as their cocks aligned again, Miguel’s hips did a wonderful thrust and rotate that EZ immediately was addicted to. Miguel’s back arched as he rubbed his sex against EZ’s, head falling back as he whimpered in pleasure. They soon had a coordinated rhythm going that took only a moment or two to push them both over into orgasm, the mental shield tightening around them to reflect each sensation back and multiply it. Miguel’s hips pumping as he came at the same time as EZ before slumping forward to rest his he’d on EZ’s chest as if he was a puppet and all his strings had been cut, legs slipping down until he was lying chest to chest with cooling seamen between them.

EZ floated pleasantly, fingers trailing up and down the length of Miguel’s spine as he tried to regain his breath and calm his racing heartbeat. The body heat between them was euphoric and the feel of his guide pressed against him, trusting him like this was addictive.

Minutes passed and Miguel’s breathing had returned to normal before EZ felt his own name whispered into his skin, the puff of air as Miguel spoke tickling him. Rather than verbally replying, EZ cupped Miguel’s head and guided him up and kissed the man when he tried to speak. Things were going to be complicated but he wanted to delay and spend as much time doing this as possible. The outside world could wait until tomorrow before intruding.

***

_II. Miguel_

Wrapping himself around Reyes, Miguel tucked his head into the Sentinel’s shoulder letting his cheek rest on the leather clad shoulder as the wind teased his skin, arms curled around the firm midsection. Pressed against the man with the vibrations of the engine thrumming through his body was causing him to continue to shiver from arousal. The scent of leather, natural body sweat from the heat, and the aftershave Reyes wore was intoxicating as his muscles contracted to keep him in place during the ride. He could barely focus on keeping his sentinel shielded from overstimulation but he knew if he didn’t they’d likely spill off the motorcycle.

The sense of absolute trust in Reyes to get them wherever they were going... he’d never felt something like this outside of childhood. The instinctive belief that they were now one unit, that they’d come to a consensus and then pursue that goal together no matter their previous paths. The partnership... the bond... spoke to him on another spiritual level. Holding on by the skin of his teeth, he kept his hands from wandering down the muscular thighs and had to constantly repeat in his mind that groping his sentinel while he drove was a terrible idea. He wanted so badly to touch that it was a compulsion—he wouldn’t be able to resist very long.Miguel could feel Reyes’ determination to see them to a safe place to complete the bond that teased and pulled at them even as it was partially appeased by their physical closeness and Miguel’s efforts at shielding.The iron will of his sentinel became a focus point, a place to ground himself lest he loose the last shreds of his control.

The demand that it could be so much more though... it tore at him with a ferocious hunger. He wouldn’t hold off very long—but he would just long enough. His hard on was pressed against Reyes’ backside and the hum of the motor made him want to thrust until complete... but he couldn’t. Not yet. Just a few more minutes. The almost painful edge of arousal pulsed and hammered at his conscious control. He refocused on Reyes constantly, ignoring as much external stimuli as possible, trying to keep a grip on his tenuous restraint.

Time expanded and contracted around him. Miguel wasn’t sure how long Reyes drove but the feeling of safety and home from his sentinel told him they were almost there. The motorcycle slowed as several turns were taken and his eyes slid shut, focusing on the bonfire warmth of his sentinel that blazed in his mind.

Wait.

Patience.

Hunger.

Soon.

Need.

Promise.

Miguel came back to his outside surroundings as the motorcycle came to a halt and Reyes shifted against him to stand and turned the engine off. The sudden stillness and silence was startling and his eyes opened. They were in one of the more modest neighborhoods, in what appeared to be the back of a house. An older camper was parked that from the markings on the ground had been there a long time—an additional living area. The house itself was neat and well kept in appearance—the sort of place that, had he previously thought of it, Miguel would have thought of as a normal person’s house. There was some minimal gardening and several flower pots were in bloom showing that they were well tended. Reyes waited for Miguel to stand and clamber off the bike before firmly parking it and dismounting himself.

As he straightened to his full height, Reyes presence to his senses projected a sense of home—this was Reyes’ personal territory. Miguel found himself looking around in renewed interest, cataloguing and memorizing their surroundings. Reyes appeared proud yet anxious for Miguel’s approval. Reyes watched Miguel and slowly pulled a cell phone out of one pocket and making a call. His dark eyes only flickered briefly away from Miguel as he took off his helmet and stashed it between the ape hanger handlebars.

Listening as Reyes spoke with his father and asked for privacy that the man find somewhere else to be for the night. Miguel connected that this was Reyes’ childhood home. Which made sense—he hadn’t been out of prison very long and likely did not have a lot of money. Looking around with renewed interest, he found himself imprinting the feel of the place on his mind, mental senses flexing and expanding to get a feel for the place, to add it to his impression of his sentinel. Reyes’ mental connection to the place was strong and the streak of familial longing for home was anchored here—which is why Reyes had brought Miguel here.

Reyes continued his phone call and Miguel had pulled off his own helmet, storing it in the saddlebags it had come from before approaching his sentinel as he spoke to his father. Unable to stop himself from giving his sentinel support, Miguel found himself stroking the smooth skin of one bicep and reveling in the shiver that pimpled the skin before Reyes wrapped the arm not holding the phone around Miguel and pulled them flush against one another.

The renewed contact short circuited Miguel’s mind, loosing track of what Reyes was saying to his father. The soft press of lips against his forehead brought him back to focus and he realized the call was over. Reyes pressed his face against Miguel’s and they shared a few slow breaths as they reveled in the feeling of being together. Miguel felt himself mentally tightenhis hold around them. He wanted to stay like this forever...

“Inside,” Reyes urged him as his eyes fluttered open to meet the soft and tender eyes.

Miguel’s lips quirked in a smile. “I hope you’re talking the house and not the trailer....” his cock twitched and a dribble of precome dampened his slacks at the thought of how the trailer would creak and move with the force of their coupling... which was not something he would have ever thought would make him hot.... but he found his ass clenching in hunger and anticipation at the thought of the force needed to claim him in such a way. Maybe the trailer wouldn’t be too bad of a place...

Reyes blushed, skin warming at Miguel’s tease as he reluctantly separated from him with keys in hand. “No. Let me get the door.”

Reyes ushered Miguel through the door and the difference in light due to the window blinds being drawn made him blink rapidly to try and see the interior. The back door entered into a kitchen that hadn’t been updated in some time but was clean, dishes drying in the sink from breakfast with cheery, feminine drapes over the window above it.The family table that had nicks and dents in the finish from long term use and the mail left in the center to be sorted. The warmth of stored family memories crested like a wave over him, buffeting him and he rode them out. Impressions of Reyes and his brother, their parents and so many memories over the years with all the experiences of lives lived. A family lived here that had shaped his sentinel in innumerable ways so strong was the association.

Reyes moved through the kitchen and into a hallway with what appeared to be a living room off to one side that was ignored. Peaking back to see if Miguel was following, the small pleased smile beckoned and Miguel followed. “This way,” was the soft, husky reply as Reyes drew him to a room off the hallway and past a shared bathroom.

Entering the bedroom, Miguel guessed it was Reyes’ childhood room. There was a desk with a Stanford football schedule poster hung over it from over a decade ago, several books discarded with a few pens and a stack of papers and old mail. The bookcase next to it was packed with both paperback fiction novels as well as old textbooks, the spines showing a variety of subjects. But what really drew Miguel’s attention was the queen sized bed shoved into a corner of the room by the window, his cock reminding him as he adjusted himself that he still hadn’t been satisfied. The thought of their first coupling being in his sentinel’s childhood bed... he was discovering all sorts of new things about himself today.

Reyes had taken a few steps into the room but suddenly froze, a slight whimper escaping his throat and his eyes pained as his hands clutched at his ears to cover them. Miguel’s curiosity faded and fierce protective instincts had him crossing the small distance between them to crowd against his sentinel, his mind casting about to find the source of distress. A faint puff of cold air from the air conditioner cycling on clued Miguel in—a zone on either noise or possibly touch. Most likely hearing since the sentinel was clutching at his ears.

Miguel almost panicked, trying to soothe the distress off his sentinel. Speaking softly, he let his own hands cover Reyes, voice cracking slightly as he scrambled for a way to reach the pained sentinel. His sentinel’s eyes had closed and he found himself rubbing the hands underneath his in slow strokes of fingers as he followed the tendons. Sharing breath, he rubbed his face against Reyes’ before licking into his mouth. The tongue in Reyes’ mouth at first didn’t move but then darted forward to share the taste of the kiss to reinforce that sense. Miguel found himself calling for his sentinel. “Reyes... Reyes.... Reyes....” he pled, layering his mental shields around the sentinel in thin, interlocking layers that adjusted to outside stimuli but created a barrier and space between the sentinel and the outside world. Soothing the spikes of energy he could feel but not see to weave layer after layer of protection and imbuing it with his own emotional energy. He continued to focus on the touch sense as a counterpoint, using it to try and push the sentinel out of the zone while giving a focus for the zoned sense to calibrate to with his own voice.

They slide to the floor as Reyes wavered, Miguel cradling the man so he wouldn’t fall. They were soon on their knees, Miguel supporting Reyes’ weight as the sentinel became dependent on him. Nuzzling his face into Reyes’, Miguel wavered but held on as he felt the sentinel stabilize and begin to come back to him. A few tears of relief escaped his eyes and a sharp inhale before his breath caught and he continued to call for his sentinel to come back to him.

The sense of return as Reyes came out of the zone was cathartic and he found his hands clutching and tangling with the sentinel’s. “Reyes... Reyes.... Reyes!”

Muscle tone returning, the man awoke against him and the slide of his beard against the sentinel’s face caused a rumbling groan of hunger to escape the chest against his. Feeling the bob of the throat as Reyes swallowed, Miguel touched his lips to the skin of Reyes ear. “Reyes....” he called, asking for acknowledgment.

“It’s Ezekiel... or EZ,” whispered his sentinel, a flutter of eyelashes against his cheek as EZ nuzzled back into Miguel, a slight nip of teeth as found the pulse point high on the neck.

Mentally savoring his sentinel’s name, Miguel silently tried both nickname and given name. The associations his sentinel drew between both told him to go with the nickname—Ezekiel was for formal situations... this was not one. EZ.... EZ Reyes.... Ezekiel Reyes.... Miguel’s EZ... A primal sense of possession flared in his mind. EZ was Miguel’s. Miguel was EZ’s.

Realizing that EZ hadn’t called him by name, Miguel gave his own name with a soft touch of lips, his gaze meeting EZ’s own hungry eyes that promised so many things.

“Miguel,” was the feather soft call from the sentinel before their lips met in an open mouthed kiss that spoke to the ravenous pull between them and EZ pulled them to standing. The previously limp hands now wandered across Miguel’s body, clever fingers finding buttons and zippers before pulling on the leather of the belt and diving underneath layers of linen and high quality cotton. Trails of fire followed each touch, inflaming and coaxing as Miguel felt himself being bared to EZ in more ways than just physically. He managed to push off the leather vest that covered EZ and the noise of it hitting the floor was loud in the room above the harsh panting breaths.

EZ stepped back just long enough to shuck the rest of his own clothing, bending to rid himself of his boots to show the defined musculature of his back which made Miguel want to lick every inch.Miguel stood and watched as the beautiful, warm skin was exposed to his eyes, transfixed by the heavy sway of cock that was proud and at attention. When EZ was completely free of clothing, he flexed for Miguel, showing off what was to be his. Seconds later, EZ was back and pushing the clothing he’d loosened back for his hands to stroke and tease, exploring Miguel and pressing his skin into as much contact as possible. Miguel found himself shaking his loosened suit jacket, vest and shirt off before wrapping his arms around EZ, hands pulling their mouths together for another wet open kiss.

The Sentinel’s hands wandered in exploration and Miguel let him do whatever he pleased, feeling them move towards the bed. The nip of teeth followed by the soothing swipe of a tongue over his skin. Teasing, tasting, claiming like a hot brand. He let his head fell back, eyes closed as he let himself be consumed by EZ—pliant yet waiting. His Sentinel needed this and he would give it gladly.

A moan of pleasure escaping him as EZ found the places that sparked along his nerves, making him shake at the force of the pleasure as a hot mouth covered and then suckled at one nipple, treating his pec like a woman’s breast, the other firmly tweaked and pulled by nimble fingers as the hand cradled the muscle. Miguel would not have labeled his chest an erogenous zone previously but EZ obviously knew that he enjoyed it, tongue laving hungrily before moving to sample the other. Miguel found himself chanting his Sentinel’s name and then swearing, cognitive abilities abandoning him as the pleasure spiked from EZ’s attentions.

Lost in the pleasure of touch, Miguel pulled and they were kissing again. Pressing as close as possible, he found his cock exposed to the air through his open pants and ground himself into EZ’s own sex, his own hands gripping firmly on his Sentinel’s hips to gain purchase, grinding and thrusting as their cocks met and slid together, precome mixing and the only lubrication they had. EZ’s grip shifted to firmly gather and clutch at Miguel’s ass as he encouraged the movements, fingers digging into the muscle hard enough to bruise.

Somehow, he pushed his shoes off—wanting to be naked and able to wrap his legs around the other man. The feel of EZ’s fingertips rubbing and spreading his ass to explore his cleft made his swear and he felt his hole clench in anticipation as the fingers stopped near it but not touching. Miguel wanted that touch, wanted that claim, wanted to reciprocate, the feeling of fullness that would come with taking in the Sentinel’s sex.

Not realizing they’d moved so close to the bed, Miguel found himself pulled down onto EZ’s lap with a bounce as they hit the mattress, tangled in his pants that were resting around his knees.EZ did not miss a beat and continued to grope at Miguel’s ass, hands cradling yet continuing to stimulate. Snarling in frustration, Miguel pulled back and removed his pants and underwear with a frustrated snarl. This amused EZ and the chuckle that escaped his chest had Miguel glaring at him in annoyance. The soft smile and kiss that followed mollified him slightly as the hands that had been on his ass now removed one sock and then the other, hands lightly gripping and releasing each foot with reverence before moving to cradle Miguel tightly against him.

Miguel could only watch with hunger and then they were kissing again, following EZ down as he pulled him to lay on top of the sentinel, hands seemingly everywhere at once.Finally, EZ’s hands found Miguel’s hips and brought them together as they began to rub off against one another. The slightly too dry slide and slip of skin was both not enough and too much. Miguel was an eager participant, mouth latched onto EZ’s before breaking to breathe as he rotated and ground his hips down into his Sentinel’s, feeling like an overeager teenager loosing his virginity but unembarrassed by the strength of his desire.

Quickly, they crested the wave and crashed into orgasm. Miguel felt stretched as he mentally reached out as he hit his peak, back arching like a drawn bow and his body contracting with the force of orgasm. Something shattered within him and the shields he’d instinctively wrapped them in rippled and were remade, latching onto EZ in a way that was different but stronger than before. The emotional feedback that he’d found overwhelming earlier was now both gentler and stronger. He could sense which emotions were EZ’s and which were his but the feedback was positive, twinning around each other in a dance that Miguel would, decades later, still not have the ability or words to describe it. The bond between them was still not complete... would grow and evolve still yet further but was already strong and unbreakable.

Miguel found himself dazed and lost in the feelings around him, only sensing his sentinel and himself as his shields hardened around them to repel any foreign sensation and block out the possibility of a zone. The feeling of EZ’s physical, mental and emotional self wrapped protectively around his physical body and inner core, strengthening and shoring up the places that had been shattered to cause him to come online. The euphoria of climax allowing EZ in, to be welcomed in by Miguel as he drew the sentinel in deep.

They weren’t quite completely there yet... there would be more. But the strength of their connection was now so strong and deep that, had it been measured, would have been labeled alpha level. Miguel floated, feeling places within himself opening and unfurling, readying him for something he didn’t understand but trusted. His shields were thick and instinctual around them as the guide’s inner self prepared for the next act of bonding that would pull them even deeper into each other.

He could feel himself opening up, becoming vulnerable but knew that it was necessary that EZ would take care of him and the result would take him a lifetime to map out and describe. Resting on top of EZ, the feeling of his Sentinel’s hands gently gliding up and down his back and thighs allowed him to drift bonelessly as he opened. The swell of the chest underneath his face as EZ breathed and the sound of his heartbeat steady in Miguel’s ear. His own hand came to rest on the chest, eyes half-lidded as he watched the movement of each breath rise and fall. “EZ,” he murmured into his Sentinel’s chest, burying his nose in the skin underneath him and pressing a kiss over the heart.

The hands that had been stroking his back now came to cradle his head, strong fingers carding through the short hair of his fade, thumbs finding the joint of his jaw and urging him up to meet EZ’s mouth in a sweet kiss that rapidly became more hungry, mouth opening at the pressure applied by the hands holding him. The taste of his Sentinel, the glide of tongues against one another and sharing air. Miguel felt EZ’s body begin to respond again, the cock that rested against his hips stirring to life again as his own became heavy with the rush of blood.

EZ rolled them, Miguel now underneath him and legs sprawled open to allow the sentinel to rest between them, body weight heavy and pinning him in place. Miguel moaned into the kiss as it broke for them both to breathe noisily before diving back in. He found his legs wrapping around the man, ankles locking as he desperately tried to relieve the ache in his groin but unable to move the heavier weight that held him down. EZ chuckled into the kiss as it again broke, using his arms to lift himself slightly to make eye contact. EZ had a small, fond smile on his face that Miguel knew was just for him. Dark eyes sparkled with amusement. “Have you done this before?” Was the soft question as a hand tangled in the longer strands of Miguel’s hair.

Miguel blushed. He’d never done anything with a man before this although he knew theoretically what to do as evidenced by his body’s responses and he couldn’t help clenching again at the thought of coupling with EZ. His prior experiences and with his wife had been rather focused on getting off rather than experimentation, too worried about being judged while in university given how driven he’d been by expectations. Sex with his wife... with Emily... she had discouraged anything other than straight forward coupling before a few nights ago when he’d been rougher with her than any of his other sexual partners or her. It had surprised him at the time but he’d been too raw feeling to do anything other than respond with anger at how she’d goaded him—which had contributed to his coming online he was sure. 

Other than some rather coarse discussions while drunk in college... he’d never had anal sex or experimented with a man. HIs college friends had boasted and spoken of it but he’d never actually performed anything like that—hadn’t been interested in performing such acts and leaving himself open to judgement. The expectations he’d been raised under, kept under while his father was alive... they’d at times been suffocatingly heavy and repressive and at others protective and he’d instinctively sheltered within them.

Now... now he wondered what he’d missed. But the regret was minuscule as he knew that it meant he would only share it with his Sentinel.... which he felt instinctively was how he’d wanted it all along. As if he had known that he was waiting for EZ... which put a whole new perspective on courting and marrying Emily.Had he known? Had he instinctively known that she’d been with his Sentinel and chosen her because of it?Because she was something that tied him to EZ?

Miguel was sure that someone at the sentinel and guide center was going to have a field day speculating about his life choices and what they meant. Either way, it didn’t matter right now. Clearing his throat, he blinked and knew he was blushing madly.Nothing to do but have a frank conversation with his Sentinel. “I’ve never done anything with a man.... or had anal sex—giving or receiving.”

EZ’s hands pulled insistently so that their gazes met, his intense and hungry, yet soft. “Okay. I want you to let me know if I do anything you don’t like or don’t want. This should be good for you—even if your instincts are hammering at you like mine. This is for us... not just for me,” he insisted tenderly.

Miguel swallowed against the dryness in his throat at the promise EZ was making, licking his lips. “I want it. I want you. I want your claim on my skin,” he told EZ in a hoarse whisper, shifting his body to rub their skin against one another and shivering and muscles contracting, fluttering in anticipation of the sexual act he was asking for.The ache deep inside was more insistent now that they were speaking. “I want to feel full of you, as deep as possible.”

EZ’s eyes dilated at the mention of being inside Miguel, breath caught momentarily before resuming with a sharp inhale, fingers twitching as well as his cock against Miguel. “Okay,” was all he said, eyes closed as he visibly tried to get control of his body. Miguel didn’t help and purposefully contracted his legs around EZ, both of them back to full hardness, ankles digging deep into the back of EZ’s thighs.

“Please,” Miguel pleaded. “Please....”

“Going to make you feel so good,” EZ promised him, stretching out to pull open the drawer on the bedside table and rummaging through it before finding what he was looking for and coming back to Miguel. “Remember... tell me what you want. I want to know if I’m pleasing you...”

Miguel whimpered, the sharp spike of arousal as EZ moved on top of him distracting. He was back to being on the knife’s edge, his body more than ready to proceed and he wanted to be full.... so full both mentally and physically. He needed it, hungered for it, would do anything for it now. “You will,” he assured EZ when he could focus just long enough for EZ’s touch to send him spinning out again mentally.

EZ’s mouth claimed him, the sharp bite of teeth as they nipped at his tongue and then broke, mouth making it’s way down Miguel’s neck, nipping and leaving bruises in a trail, the brush of his van dyke making Miguel’s skin hypersensitive to each touch. His hands clung to EZ’s shoulders as he was lifted and repositioned, legs tightening in protest before he was placed back on the bed with a pillow wedged underneath his ass to lift it in the air.

Hands and mouth mapping each inch of skin, EZ’s mouth lingered briefly on each nipple. Teeth sharp and hungry as they pulled on each bud, making Miguel cry out in pleasure as he shamelessly babbled a mixture of EZ’s name and encouragement interspersed with swears and cries for more. He could feel EZ’s smile against his skin as the sentinel explored using his senses to imprint indelibly on both of them—scent, taste, touch, sound and sight were all used to wind Miguel up as he moved further down towards Miguel’s navel.

Each action was analyzed and adjusted for maximal impact, driving Miguel out of his mind as his mental senses ricocheted off the thick shielding he’d built to amplify the experience. He could feel EZ’s emotions wrapping around him and sinking into his bones, laying claim to him. In response he reciprocated, emitting each sensation back to EZ in a feedback loop, making the sentinel snarl in hunger against his skin before his tongue darted into Miguel’s navel, exploring the skin and tasting.

EZ used his shoulders and hands to push Miguel’s legs further apart, hands like brands on Miguel’s inner thighs and pushing his face into Miguel’s cock and nuzzling it before taking it into the furnace-like heat of his mouth. Swallowing down to the root before pulling back to play with the head and suckle at the slit, tongue exploring and taking each pearl of liquid as it leaked making Miguel writhe in the iron-like grip, hands scrabbling at the back of EZ’s head to hold him in place. Another bob of the Sentinel’s head as he took Miguel back to the root, throat contracting around the firm cock before pulling back to breathe and then repeating again and again. Miguel was distantly aware he was yelling EZ’s name which seemed to spur on the sentinel.

Miguel tried to give warning that he was about to come again, unable to hold on, clutching at the short strands of hair under his fingers. Instead of pulling off, EZ pulled back just enough to take a deep breath before swallowing down to the base before pulling back slightly and sucking with renewed frenzy. The feeling of a slick finger resting against his entrance before circling and massaging it, then entering up to the first knuckle startled Miguel but as it entered further and hit a spot within him that made him see stars, he was pushed over into orgasm with a bitten off scream of EZ’s full name. The finger continued to work in and out of him, massaging the spot that kept him coming down EZ’s throat as his legs clenched, ankles digging into the muscled back. Miguel was sobbing—he’d come so hard and felt so strung out and stretched around EZ as the Sentinel pushed deeper into his subconscious mental space, taking ownership of it and reshaping Miguel’s very sense of himself to include EZ. Miguel did not feel invaded but as if he was being remade to how he’d always meant to be, threading their consciousness and emotions together into a tight weave that became another layer of protective shielding he draped around them.

Floating in the post orgasm haze, Miguel didn’t protest when his cock was released from EZ’s mouth, just stretched slightly as his legs spread to leave himself completely vulnerable to his Sentinel’s gaze. EZ’s gaze was possessive where he knelt between Miguel’s thighs, the hunger still present despite the taste he’d received. The adoration, love, possession and need that hung between them warmed Miguel as he smiled softly at EZ. “Please,” he asked, knowing that EZ was waiting for him. “Take what you need.”

A hesitant, slightly trembling hand cupped his face and EZ leaned up to gently kiss him. Miguel could taste himself on EZ’s lips and it was a new experience but one he knew he’d quickly grow addicted to. The taste of his own seamen made his body twitch but it was still too early even with the bonding fever between them. His hands gently traced the van dyke and he rubbed their noses together in an Eskimo kiss, savoring the moment and the feeling of absolute trust and love that he wanted to drown in, never lose. He’d never felt something even close to this. This was his. His. Theirs. It was time to make it permanent.

“Please,” he whispered against EZ’s mouth before again kissing it. “Please....EZ.”

“Okay,” was the soft reply and he could feel EZ moving against him, the weight of him draping over Miguel, sweat slicked skin sticking together.

Letting his eyes close, Miguel focused on the visceral feedback as well as emotional feedback, letting himself ride the waves of it and revel in it. The finger was back at his entrance and he relaxed purposefully against it, allowing it in easier this time. EZ took his time stretching with one finger before adding a second, unerringly finding that spot within Miguel that had him whimpering and thrusting back to meet the fingers, wanting more. So much more.

EZ continued to kiss him, coaxing his mouth open and busy. Clinging to the broad shoulders, Miguel moaned into the mouth on his, body shuddering and asking silently for more, always more—projecting the need mentally at EZ. He knew he’d never get enough—never. Not even if they did nothing but this for the rest of their lives. Never tire of it. Never stop hungering for his sentinel and the feelings surrounding them. He was addicted, dependent and he luxuriated in the emotional bindings entrapping him like a fly in a spider’s web.

He reveled in the sense of arousal pouring off EZ, his own body lax from orgasm but he could feel the tightly coiled restraint in the sentinel. Miguel knew EZ would wait for him, however long it took—which would be drastically shortened if the stories were to be believed. Popular culture said that during a bonding heat, refractory periods shortened—which he could believe based on current experience.

He continued to float, exchanging lazy kisses as EZ continued to work on that spot within him. Surrounded by his sentinel, drunk on his sentinel’s emotions. EZ had a center to him, an iron core that he found himself sinking into, intrinsically binding himself to it and felt his shields shudder and then settle. EZ paused in what he was doing, eyes wide when he pulled back to look at Miguel. “Did you just?” He asked, delight on his face.

Miguel cocked his head, considering the question but not sure about the answer. “Maybe?”

EZ laughed, the flash of the pearl white of his teeth making Miguel chuckle as well. “Maybe?Sure feels like it.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Miguel shot back still grinning as he pulled EZ back to keep making out with him. EZ went easily, shoving a third finger in that made Miguel gasp and hips buck into EZ’s.

Soon he felt his body responding to the stimulation EZ was providing, cock filling again despite the vague ache in his balls from two powerful orgasms already. He was now taking three fingers easily and he found himself becoming impatient. On further evaluation, he was pretty sure they hadn’t quite completed the bond but were close—like they’d tripped another level of it but had a bit further to go. While the feelings that were amplified between them were strong, they seemed less like they were drowning him, like he could let them flow over him and enjoy instead of being swept away.

EZ seemed to understand the urgency that was building—the bond wasn’t complete from the feel of it after all. “How do you want this? It’d be easier on your stomach....”

Miguel hesitated. “Do you want....”

“No. I asked you. I need to know that I’m not hurting you,” EZ insisted, a line of worry appearing between his eyes.

While he understood the mechanics would be easier...the thought of not being face to face, watching EZ and finalizing the claiming right back.... the stories always seemed to imply that the strength of a final bond was better if the claiming bites were simultaneous... which he needed. He wouldn’t settle for anything less than as deep of a bond as possible. The decision was instinctual. “No. This way,” he told EZ. “I want to see you.”

EZ nodded, bitting his lips as he moved to pull his fingers from Miguel. EZ’s sex had been steadily dribbling come and he moved his fingers to apply slick to it but stopped, looking at Miguel. “Condoms?”

“No,” was the immediate answer. He was clean and the fact that EZ was asking told him the man was careful. There would be nobody else for the rest of their lives—condoms were unnecessary.

EZ closed his eyes, face scrunched up in concentration as his cock bobbed at Miguel’s firm reply, breathing in and out through his nose before his fingers applied the lube to himself. Miguel found himself helping, hand gripping firmly around a cock that wasn’t his own. The groan that melted out of EZ’s throat at his touch made Miguel realize he’d been negligent. Moving his hand to stroke, he made a tight circle with his fingers and gave a few pumps. The snarl that EZ let out was hungry and he thrust his hips into Miguel’s hands, making him grin. Kissing EZ, Miguel let go of his prize as he tightened his legs around him. “I want you inside me, Sentinel,” he whispered against EZ’s lips.

EZ’s eyes popped open and the kiss became hungry and open mouthed again, tongues tangling as EZ invaded Miguel’s mouth. Strong, capable hands pulled on Miguel’s hips to get him positioned just right. The nudge at his hole was blunt before the pressure increased and the head of EZ’s cock penetrated the tight ring. Miguel broke the kiss to pant against EZ’s mouth and then threw his head back as he pulled with his legs, back arching to push his ass back to receive his sentinel.

He wanted it all. Deep. As deep as possible. Now.

And he didn’t care about the burn.

The stretch was more than with the fingers...and deeper. Miguel kept pulling with his legs, encouraging EZ on. The surprised grunt from EZ as he gained purchase and moved deeper made Miguel bite at his mouth, wanting it back on his. EZ grumbled about pushy guides but resumed kissing him, hands clenched tight around the hips that he pulled down as he thrust up.

Soon, Miguel was so full. So stretched. So much and not enough. He wanted to feel the wild claim of EZ losing control. The control that he felt from EZ was breaking and he dived deeper instantly, knowing that this was for him. This is what it meant to be a guide. EZ let him in, folding around the mental penetration as he physically moved deeper into Miguel.

When his ass met EZ’s hips, he knew he had him all. He was shaking and sweaty from the effort of just taking the sentinel. Now he wanted the release. “Move,” he growled against EZ’s mouth. “More,” he pleaded.

EZ nodded, incapable of speech as he imprinted the feel of his guide accepting him bodily. The first withdrawal and thrust lit up Miguel’s nerves, sparking pleasure. And then another. And another.

The rhythm they built was fast and punishing in it’s power. Miguel couldn’t get enough, get EZ deeper but the hits to his pleasure center were making him fray even more around the edges. He knew he was projecting everything he felt and could feel the reciprocal repose in his sentinel. The pull as their inner, mental cores danced and twined around each other in mirror to their physical bodies. The pleasures shared, amplified, and Miguel felt himself lost within EZ but unworried.

They had parted their mouths to try and breath, the physical exertion of coupling requiring them both to pull air in rapidly, noses touching briefly before EZ guided Miguel’s mouth to his neck. EZ’s own mouth was now resting over the right side of his neck and, as Miguel felt his peak approaching, he laved the skin underneath his mouth with his tongue before lightly placing his teeth on the skin, breathing against it.

EZ’s cock was hitting directly on that pleasure spot, again and again, unerringly. Miguel didn’t try to hold on and surrendered, feeling orgasm begin to rush through him. The sharp sting of EZ’s teeth spurred him on and he bit deep, tasting blood as he clenched around EZ.Miguel’s brain whited out as something within him shattered and there was a rush of presence, of EZ and he welcomed it before falling unconscious.


	2. III-IV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miguel and EZ begin to navigate the issues between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings this chapter: brief mention of past suicidal thoughts related to being imprisoned. More unrealistic bonding sex.

_III. EZ_

EZ had never, in his wildest dreams, expected this.Miguel was a cool tempered businessman... but he’d let EZ have the lead when it came to sex and the man beneath the layers that he’d exposed... was not the businessman exterior. Mind blowing sex... quite literally had opened the guide to EZ. EZ cradled the limp guide in his arms, the smile of absolute pleasure on Miguel’s lax face was comforting, invoking a deep well of tenderness in EZ.He’d asked so many questions of the old Mexican sentinel who’d been on his cell block—if the old man hadn’t told him that this was likely he would have panicked. The physical joining had settled his senses fully on Miguel—he would never be unable to find or be aware of the man in his arms ever again. The blood in his mouth from the bond bite made him lick his lips, the copper taste unique to his guide.

Carefully, he moved Miguel’s limbs to lay flat, regretting as he pulled out and the combined lube and come that leaked made him want to bury his nose in his mate, pushing it back in with his tongue, but he resisted. Curling around Miguel, he tucked each limb protectively, covering the guide. He could feel Miguel’s shields, the wonderful, powerful, adaptable things—around them. The light puff of cold air from the air conditioner had him pulling the comforter around them, bundling them together in a nest like cocoon.

Nosing his guide’s neck where he’d bitten, he gave the wound a few licks to clean it. It would scar over nicely, a permanently visible reminder to all other sentinels that this guide was his. Casting his senses about, he felt no instability as he examined the entirety of the house, the houses around it and almost all the way to the highway. It was late afternoon and people had begun to return home. He systematically catalogued and mentally tagged each person moving within his range and tightened his hold around Miguel. EZ was tired but he’d stand watch for a few more minutes before joining Miguel in sleep. The old Mexican had told him to give his guide time to pull him in, that the mental joining was fatiguing for any guide—let alone a newly online one. The bonding sleep, as it was called, was protective and would allow Miguel to reform his core naturally while integrating EZ into it. The way that Miguel had touched him earlier.... that feeling of something inescapable clicking into place.... EZ had felt that and it had released something in him that had been tightly coiled since his mother’s death.

Coming online due to his mother’s death had been.... traumatic. Between Emily, Angel and his Pops... he hadn’t been in control. His mother had been a latent sentinel and if anyone should have come online with her death it should have been Angel as the older brother—but he hadn’t. Instead it’d been EZ struggling with his schoolwork and well.... he’d killed that cop while out of control. He could remember the pain of his senses spiking, no relief, no safety. He’d smelled blood everywhere for weeks until he was dosed with a suppressant when taken into custody. There’d been no accommodation for a newly online sentinel who was grieving his mother’s violent death. Being sentenced to the sentinel unit had both been life saving as well as ending.

Sentinel and guide screening had been compulsory in California for the last thirty years—everyone was screened in the second grade. EZ remembered when the bonded sentinel and guide had come to speak to his class and explained what a sentinel and a guide were. He’d been curious, like always, when presented with new information. When he’d asked his mom after school, she had explained that there were both in the family and that they would have to wait for his results—genetic testing for the gene had just become available. Angel had been the typical older brother, teasing EZ with the knowledge that he had the sentinel genes and maybe EZ wouldn’t.

The test results had come back that he had the gene and then he’d had a further meeting with both a sentinel and a guide. Their testing had shown that, if he came online, it would likely be as a sentinel. He’d received the basic training in how to recognize it but no further training was done—the gene was rather common on the testing but only maybe 5% of those came online at some point in their life. There was no funding to teach all of the public school kids everything about being a sentinel or a guide. Having the gene was no guarantee that you’d become a rare sentinel or guide. They just wanted to mark you down for the future.

That minimal training had left him profoundly unprepared—the avalanche of sensory input after his mother’s death that had already emotionally left him reeling made control a pipe dream. The old man—Raul—had gone inactive after his guide’s death, his senses shutting down when his guide hadn’t been there to anchor him as a faulty survival mechanism. The old man flatly stated he would have rather died but his guide’s beliefs had prevented him from purposefully ending his own life. The aftermath of the tragedy of his guide’s death had landed the crotchety old man in prison for life. He’d taken up the role of teacher in the sentinel ward, teaching the young sentinels that became incarcerated the old lore from Mexico—from before the sentinel and guide centers became ubiquitous within the US.

He explained that modern explanations of sentinel and guide relationships were heavily sanitized and edited for the public. The descriptions of the depth of bonding, the lack of self determinism had scared EZ at first until Raul had explained the strengths of it. For every advantage there was a disadvantage. The universe sought balance which is why for all their enhanced senses, sentinels still were heavily reliant on guides and vice versa. That the stronger the abilities, the greater the dependence. But—the trade offs were worth it if you worked for them. The richness of the relationship and the depths of it that you could have with your guide, that they would be yours for life and you were theirs. No chance of divorce or leaving you for someone else. That tie that bound you went both ways.

The way the man had spoken of his guide, the longing and despair in his voice... it had shaken EZ at the time when he’d realized the amount of power the dead guide still held over the old sentinel. He’d thought of his relationship with Emily and, bitterly, when they had broken up he’d understood that she wouldn’t ever be his guide. Emily was a null. The affection he still had for her was subdued but he also knew it was mostly tied up in the life he’d had before—the life that he’d left behind. It had been simpler, easier, and kinder than the harshness of prison life. After he’d gotten out, finding that she’d gotten married to a cartel boss had given him another reason to justify his plea deal. 

Of course that had landed him in a whole other steaming pile of shit he supposed as he carded a hand gently through Miguel’s silky hair. His guide, still asleep, grumbled slightly and pressed his nose more firmly into EZ’s chest to hide from the irritation, seeking the sentinel’s safety and protection instinctively.EZ could admit to a lot of worry—when Miguel found out about everything that EZ knew.... he hoped his guide would listen. They would have to work together and the strain it would put on their bond would be huge. However, EZ knew that they’d eventually work it out. Miguel had been an adversary only hours earlier—now he knew he’d kill to protect the man without a second thought. His world view had shifted upon it’s foundations.

Breathing in deeply, he savored the scents of their combined bodies. The sweat, come, and the natural scent of his guide underneath it all. The warmth of Miguel’s skin next to his and the steady beat of his heart was soothing. Rubbing his face against Miguel’s shoulder, EZ let his eyes fall to half-mast, hands stroking and caressing. Miguel made a small noise of protest as he found a ticklish spot, fidgeting in EZ’s grip but not waking which made him smile. The guide was so well put together whenever he’d met him before—the yellow raincoat to protect him from blood spatter in the Samoan incident had struck him as ridiculous but made sense. He didn’t like cleaning up blood either but he knew the rest of the Mayans had thought him weak for being so concerned. However, the three piece suits, the impeccable grooming... they’d all spoken to a sheltered and privileged existence to the rest of the club.

EZ and the Mayans never worked in the circles that Miguel had to navigate. The professional businessmen that worked in real estate and other high dollar generating businesses looked similar to Miguel. EZ had heard Bishop comment that Miguel did not understand men such as them... EZ would add that Bishop did not understand men such as Miguel. In a lot of ways, Miguel was a modern day Michael Corleone. Miguel had inherited his position within the cartel from his father after having been sent away to get an Ivy League education more suited to a career businessman, not a narco trafficker. 

What had Miguel and his people been doing out there in the canyons? He’d gotten the impression that he’d been brought to where Miguel already was and that they’d been looking for him—not that Miguel had purposefully chosen to speak with EZ out in the boonies. Miguel had told his security to reschedule with the mayor... about what?

Not that it mattered right that moment. EZ shelved those thoughts for later and shifted slightly, pulling Miguel with him, running his fingers through the short hair at the nape of the guide’s neck and up to the soft skin behind the curve of the ear.

“You can keep doing that forever,” was the half asleep whisper. Miguel’s own arm wrapped around EZ, snuffling into his pec and pressing his face into the groove between muscle and chest, beard tickling his skin.

“You like that?” EZ asked,

“Yes,” Miguel hissed, moving his hips slightly and their bodies brushing against one another. EZ felt his groin start to take interest which Miguel obviously was aware of since he moved so he could wrap one hand around EZ’s cock and just hold onto it, grip firm as his fingers ran along the length, mapping it by touch.

Breath hitching as his body responded like a teenager, EZ concentrated on breathing through his nose. The light nip to his skin from Miguel told him his guide was enjoying this and he let his own hand stroke down Miguel’s neck to his mid back before heading lower and gripping the firm asscheek and hiking his guide’s body up higher which caused him to wrap a leg around EZ.

Looking down, he met Miguel’s eyes which were half-lidded and with a hungry spark to them. Miguel deliberately, while making eye contact, licked his skin and then bit—hard with a smirk. Laughing at his guide’s impudence, EZ grabbed two handfuls of ass and pulled Miguel fully on top of him, making Miguel brace himself with his hands resting on EZ’s chest as their bodies aligned, fingers digging into the muscle of his pecs. The hiss of breath and Miguel’s own body beginning to respond told him that they weren’t done yet. He threaded a hand into Miguel’s hair and pulled him down for a kiss which quickly deepened and their mouths opened. His hand still on Miguel’s ass, he delved with his fingers for the slicked entrance and put his first two fingers in as deep as they’d go—the eager clench and mewl this elicited making his own cock bob at attention.

Raising himself up, Miguel reached back and pulled EZ’s hand to go as deep as possible and clenched, hips rolling back into EZ’s hand with a groan.“EZ....”

“So beautiful,” EZ whispered as he followed Miguel up, kissing Miguel’s exposed neck right over where he’d left his mark with his teeth. “How did you never....”

“More,” Miguel commanded, voice hoarse and rough before ending in a whine as EZ added a third finger. “Please....EZ.....”

“You’re not too sore?” EZ asked in concern, trying to scent whether this was too much too soon. The eager way Miguel was wanting him... he didn’t want to hurt his guide while the bonding hormones hid the limits of their bodies from them. His senses were telling him that Miguel was feeling some pain, the slight acid tinge to the pheromones.... the hitch to his breathing and stuttering of his heartbeat before want overruled it.

Miguel pulled back enough to make eye contact, his hands bracketing EZ’s face.EZ’s fingers twisted, ruthlessly manipulating that spot within Miguel that made him gasp and buck. “Don’t care. Want you.... again and again... not enough.”

The wave of reflected ravenous hunger that Miguel pushed at him made his muscles seize in overloaded stimulation, lungs gasping for breath as his heart rate spiked, hand stilling. Not realizing he’d closed his eyes, EZ opened them. Miguel was sweat drenched making his skin shine, all his muscles tensed as he worked himself back on EZ’s hand, eyes glittering behind a few locks of his hair as he watched each and every response he pulled from EZ with his head thrown back to display himself for EZ. The dark hair of his chest and the trail that lead to his erect cock which was nestled in a neatly trimmed thatch of hair, tip curving up as it dribbled precome. The muscles in his thighs contracted to lever himself up and down, his face saying he was well aware of how EZ’s senses were riveted on him, following each muscle twitch and the sound he made as his pleasure center was manipulated by EZ’s fingers. Miguel was a work of art that no renaissance sculpture could have dreamed of—he was perfect to EZ’s mind and senses.

“Please....” Miguel asked again. EZ knew he’d never be able to deny anything Miguel wanted if he asked like this. “Its... I need the physical claim. It matches the mental—ah!”

“If you’re sure,” he groped around for the tube of lube he’d had earlier. He’d been warned by the old sentinel how demanding newly bonded guides could be—that he’d need to temper their needs and take care of them. He wouldn’t deny Miguel what he wanted as long as he didn’t sense true pain. Twisting his fingers a few more times before he flipped the cap open to put a fresh smear of lube on his hand, he barely had time to apply it to his own cock before Miguel moved and grasped him by the base, their fingers tangling and slippery as he stroked EZ from root to tip which made him bite his tongue to stop from shooting off like a teenager having his first sexual encounter.

“Fuck!” Miguel snarled as he raised himself on his heels, thighs contracting tight and worked himself down onto EZ, displacing their hands as his greedy body sucked EZ in. Despite their earlier activities, Miguel was still tight but he stretched easier a second time around EZ until his ass was resting against EZ’s hip bones, hands braced on EZ’s chest. Both of them were breathing rapidly, chests heaving in exertion. Miguel’s dark eyes, open to just slits, were focused on EZ’s face and they sparked with emotion as he held himself still for a moment, gathering himself before he raised himself off EZ until just the tip was still within him and then slunk down with a roll of the hips, knees flexing outward and standing on the bed on the balls of his feet.

EZ’s hands tightly gripped Miguel’s hipbones, causing new bruises as he helped the second time Miguel rose and fell. The eroticism of Miguel, knees spread in a deep squat, whole body arched and taught as he worked himself up and down, sweat dripping off him and head tilted to the side with eyes that didn’t move from EZ’s face. Miguel’s own sex bobbed with each movement, dripping precome at a steady rate that almost matched the soft grunts that escaped him each downstroke. One hand clutched hard over EZ’s heart while the other was splayed atop his abdomen, a fingertip finding EZ’s navel and dipping in and out in a provocative parody of their joining.

Up.

Down.

Up and the sound of the bed slamming into the wall as it shook with the reverse in direction and the downward thrust. The slap of skin on skin as their motions became more violent, chasing the elusive peak that was building between them. EZ was babbling in a mixture of spanish and English, encouraging Miguel on given the beautiful smirk that spread across his face before he leaned over just long enough to quickly kiss EZ before resuming his movements, head thrown back as he undulated like a serpent.

When the hand over his heart moved to cup his jaw, EZ nipped at the fingers and beganpulling harder on the hips under his fingers causing the down stroke to quicken. The sharp mewl that became a whine combined with the savage clench of muscles told him that Miguel was close even as he felt Ike his senses were overloaded with his Guide. The scent of sweaty pheromones, the salty tang of the finger he sucked into his mouth, the sound of their joining and the thunder of their hearts beating in synchrony pushed him higher but the feel of his mate’s velvet covered muscles contracting around him and the sleek skin under his hands were what pushed him over into orgasm and his vision whited out and his own hips snapped up as Miguel thrust down, small rocking motions with EZ seated deep within him as he followed to tug the sensation out to last longer.

Barely able to function, EZ’s hands shook where they held the sharp hipbones and the thighs that had been supporting Miguel failed, putting more of his weight on EZ. Miguel slumped to the side, his muscles unable to hold himself up after finishing, the dreamy look on his face matching the projection he was sending to EZ of smug satisfaction. EZ barely managed to shift his Guide’s weight to the side as their bodies uncoupled and Miguel let his arms fall to the side, legs still bent and splayed open.

Propped up on his elbow as he caught his breath, EZ snarled when Miguel purposefully opened his legs further to display himself fully to EZ’s attentive gaze. Breathing in through his nose, the scent of their combined spunk and pheromones made his eyes close just long enough to get a modicum of control. “EZ...” the soft whisper of his name on Miguel’s tongue made him open his eyes again.

Miguel had purposefully arranged his limbs to display himself to EZ, open and trusting and so fucking tempting. Mind stumbling as his eyes trailed over his mate, EZ’s body was too spent to react but the desire was there. Miguel arched his back, cock limp against his lower abdomen and hips splayed to show his entrance that was swollen, red and leaking even as the muscle visibly contracted under EZ’s attention.

EZ’s mouth was delving in between the spread thighs before he could think, tongue hunting for the taste of his guide. Miguel’s hands were feather soft as they ran in petting motions over the back of his head as EZ determinedly rimmed him, making soft cries and groans escape even as Miguel’s muscles fluttered from over stimulation. The uncoordinated flexing of abdominal and hip muscles telegraphing to EZ what Miguel liked as it was discovered and when he sealed his mouth over the ring of muscle and sucked before fucking Miguel with his tongue as deep as possible. The noises Miguel made at the movement told EZ he would need to reproduce them often—possibly every day if possible—as he became louder in expressing his pleasure.

EZ was pretty sure the neighbors would be able to hear them now but he just didn’t care. Miguel was honest in his appreciation and EZ was enjoying himself. Nothing wrong with that.He laved his tongue, cleaning Miguel of sweat before suckling on the softening cock that was over sensitive enough to get a whine of complaint forcing him to abandon it and lap up his guide’s semen which was streaked over his lower abdomen.

Once Miguel was mostly cleaned up, EZ moved up his guide’s body. Miguel pulled their faces together, just sharing breath as their noses and foreheads touched, eyes fluttering closed. “EZ,” was the soft call. “My sentinel.”

“My guide,” EZ responded just as gently, hands cupping Miguel’s chin.

Miguel rubbed their faces together like a cat, beard and skin soft against the stubble on EZ’s cheeks. Strong arms encircling around EZ’s shoulders as his legs wrapped around EZ’s, tangling so they couldn’t be separated easily. EZ could feel Miguel reaching out into his very soul, the intrusion welcome and he felt as if his chest was open, heart beating Miguel’s name with each beat, pleading for his guide’s attention which was given without hesitation. The sensation of Miguel wrapping himself mentally around them both, the shields adjusting and smoothing out every raw sensation. He was so deep within EZ, deeper than any physical penetration during the act of sexual intercourse that had spurred it. He couldn’t stop the sigh of pleasure that escaped, a release.

Miguel’s grip around his shoulders tightened. “So I hope you know more about being a sentinel and a guide than I do.”

EZopened his eyes to meet Miguel’s whiskey colored gaze. “How much do you know?”

The sigh that Miguel gave was exasperated as well as fond. “About as much as any man forced to go to romantic movies on dates does. Most of what I know can be summed up with there’s a guide for every sentinel, true matches, star crossed lovers—take your pick.”

EZ chuckled and then laughed when Miguel grumbled about it not being funny. As his laughter trickled away, EZ gave a gentle peck to Miguel’s nose. “Well... that’s missing out on a lot.”

“Do tell,” Miguel said as he stretched within EZ’s grip, his limbs sliding teasingly along their conjoined bodies sending shivers down EZ’s spine and making his hormones take notice even though there was no way his cock was getting it up any time soon. Miguel took notice of EZ’s reaction and his grin had a vicious edge to it as he rubbed purposefully against EZ.

“None of that. If you want to talk I need to focus,” EZ chided playfully before trying to refocus on the question. It was late afternoon judging by the angle of the sun peaking through the curtains.“You’re not exactly wrong about the one guide for one sentinel thing... but I suspect you don’t really understand the way it works.”

Shifting so that he was lying on his side, rearranging Miguel so they were both comfortable and the comforter wrapped around their bodies to keep them warm in the air conditioned house, EZ searched for how to explain. Miguel was silent, watching attentively but giving him time. The subtle tendril of Miguel’s mental presence was still surrounding them and EZ assumed that Miguel was doing it instinctively to keep tabs on his sentinel rather than on purpose—it had a natural feel to it rather than a trained one. “You’ve been online for how long?” He finally asked. “I know you weren’t online a week ago and I just catalogued you as a potential sensitive.”

Miguel’s face screwed up in concentration.“I don’t know exactly... I had a horrible migraine earlier after the hospital and Emily dismissed me from her room. I... last night at the church....” he trailed off, the mental projections tightening around EZ just as the muscles in Miguel’s body did.

“What happened at the church?” EZ prompted in a whisper.

“There was a murder... quite gruesome,” Miguel’s face twisted slightly to indicate that the sight had been very unpleasant. “One of the nuns. It caused a stampede to get out.In the chaos I lost Emily.... you know she was in the hospital?”

EZ nodded. It had been beyond awkward when Emily had called for him to come to her bedside. He’d mostly come out of a sense of obligation and because of their prior relationship. She hadn’t the pull that she used to have over him but he’d felt compelled to come when she asked. He wondered if that was because of Miguel rather than her... but how was he to know?“There is more to that murder,” he murmured as his brain made a jump in logic.

“There is.The nun... she was the one holding Cristóbal in the video.”Miguel’s voice was flat and he was tense, almost rigid next to EZ.

“Did you order her murder?” EZ asked neutrally. He wasn’t necessarily angry with Miguel if he had.

“No.I hadn’t. I wasn’t aware it was her until I saw her,” Miguel insisted, fidgeting until EZ calmly laid his hand over Miguel’s forearm, stilling it.

“Did your security team take the initiative without your approval?” EZ got the impression that things had been out of MIguel’s control and that was what was causing the agitation.

“I’m not sure. Nestor... I have known him for a very long time. It would not be unusual for him to do so... but I was unaware of the nun and normally he would have informed me at least obliquely.”Miguel’s expression was open, asking EZ to believe him.

“So maybe it was your people... or it was someone else. You lost Emily?” EZ shelved this line of questioning for later.

Miguel gave a sharp nod. “Yes. She fell and was injured. I tried... I tried to keep everyone off her but she was hurt. It was my fault....” it was obvious that Miguel felt terrible about this, the look of anguish on his face at failing to protect Emily. “I’ve been unable to prevent things from hurting my family. Cristóbal. Emily. I failed them both.”

EZ shook his head in denial. “Did you cause Los Olividados to kidnap Cristóbal? Did you physically trample Emily?”

“No,” was the short, snipped answer. “But I could have anticipated—“

EZ interrupted. “It wasn’t your fault.Yes, Los Olividados has been harassing you but it is because of the cartel not you personally—right?”

Miguel scowled. “I’ve only been running things for the last two years. Their claims... most of it was not under my direction and goes back decades.”

Watching his guide, EZ parsed through what Miguel was saying. “Yet they targeted you and your family specifically.”

Snorting, Miguel waved a hand in dismissal. “Who else would they target? My father is dead and cold in the ground. There would be no satisfaction in digging him up.They want someone alive that they can make to suffer their grievances.”

He stayed silent while he thought about Miguel’s point. “It doesn’t really matter why they’re doing it,” he finally told his guide. “They’re a problem either way.But... you said you had a headache. This morning?”

“Yes. It came on very suddenly. I attributed it to not sleeping and... I was angry when I saw you leaving Emily’s room.She was not happy when I tried to see how she was doing.”Miguel was avoiding his gaze again and EZ cupped the guide’s face gently to pull it back towards him, fingers firm but gentle.

Miguel initially resisted but he took a deep breath, shuddered slightly and then gave it to EZ’s touch, his eyes flittering about but not meeting his, long eyelashes fluttering. “Miguel. She didn’t mean it.She’s scared and hurting.... she’s... she’s not the girl I dated anymore and I....” EZ just couldn’t find the words to explain how Emily had changed. She was harder now and more manipulative—which he flinched at the thought of. She’d been pregnant when he was arrested—he’d only found out from his father. EZ wasn’t sure exactly what had happened but there was no living child that he was aware of and his father had only given him a sad look the one time he’d asked. “I think that she’s trying her best to hold it together... “

Miguel shook his head, eyes still downcast. “She... she blames me for Cristóbal. She told me as much. He would not have been taken if it was not for my family business.”

EZ raised one eyebrow. “And did you hide who you were and who your family was from her?Emily isn’t an idiot. She must have known what she was getting into by marrying you.”

That got him a glare, their eyes meeting as the emotional rope between them tugged sharply. “She knew. I made sure she knew.”

Carding his hands through the silky hair, EZ tried to soothe Miguel and the whiskey colored eyes lost their sharp edge but remained sad. “Then she knew. She’s not innocent in this Miguel. She doesn’t get to pretend she didn’t know this was a possibility.”

Shaking his head to knock EZ’s hand loose, Miguel shifted his weight slightly and was now leaning more into EZ’s body, muscles relaxing just slightly. “I had her well protected... but Cristóbal is still kidnapped. I want my son back,” his voice broke with a retained sob at the last bit and EZ pulled Miguel firmly to him, allowing Miguel to hide his face in EZ’s chest.

“Cristóbal will be coming home to you tomorrow,” EZ stated firmly. Even if Adelita had moved the camp he would be able to track them from their last location with his senses. Having Miguel to ground him would make it impossible for her to hide Cristóbal. The pleasing scent of baby was seared on his brain and he could now identify parts of it that came from Miguel that would likely strengthen as Cristóbal grew into an adult. Family lines smelled alike to a sentinel.

Miguel nuzzled into his chest, not looking up. “You say that so confidently... I can almost believe you.”

It was EZ’s turn to snort in amusement at his guide’s lack of faith in his abilities. “I am serious. I know where to start looking.”

That got Miguel’s attention and he raised his head, a deep frown on his face that drew his eyebrows down. “Explain.”

EZ shifted slightly, aware that Miguel was not going to be happy with everything he had to say. “I know because I’ve seen Cristóbal since he was taken.”

Miguel froze for a split second before pushing away from EZ, scrambling to put some distance between their bodies as he pushed himself into the wall the bed was set against and the blanket fell away. Because he didn’t have a lot of experience, Miguel was not able to stop the transference of his own emotions to EZ and it was brutal. The sense of betrayal, anger, fury... “Stop!” EZ begged. “Miguel stop for one minute and listen!”

Trembling, Miguel pushed himself into the wall to get as far away from EZ as he could. “Why?!?” Was the anguished howl.

“Because my brother is an idiot,” EZ snapped, letting Miguel feel how annoyed and irritated he was with Angel. Really—his brother’s plan was stupid and bound to get them both in more trouble. EZ had been struggling ever since he found out about Angel’s plan on how to separate his brother from Jimenez’s investigation. His loyalty had been with his brother... and it now belonged to his guide first. Miguel came first. EZ wasn’t able to analyze this thought further and he instead focused on his guide who was about two seconds from making a break for it.“Angel thinks that the club needs to have a new revenue stream which doesn’t include making deals with a businessman he sees as being,” EZ broke off, trying to think of a different term that wouldn’t make Miguel even more furious.

“As being what?” Miguel’s gaze was sharp and he was listening but hadn’t moved. “Say it. Whatever he called me.I’m sure it’s what you thought,” he sneered. 

EZ could feel how pained Miguel was—the raw devastation underneath the fury that he radiated. “He called you... it’s not important.”

“I think it is. I think you agreed with him,” Miguel argued, pushing his anger forward to hide the agony he was in. Miguel felt cornered and was lashing out—EZ could feel it.

“I didn’t agree with him.I thought it was a stupider idea than the club working for you.”

The sharp, bitten off laugh wasn’t a nice sound. “And working for me is stupid?”

“Yes. Because it’s illegal,” EZ let his voice drop back into his normal tone, trying to reason with Miguel.

That brought Miguel up short, aborting whatever he was about to have snarled. “What?”

EZ swore under his breath. “Can you promise to listen for five minutes first? Before you run off screaming to find a gun and put me out of my misery?”

Miguel’s eyes glinted in anger but he cocked his head. EZ could feel the conscious probe Miguel sent his way and did his best to keep his mind open, thinking only of how many hours he’d sat in his cell hoping that he’d someday get out and find his guide. Find Miguel. That feeling of... almost pining for his guide despite the numbing effects of the suppressants. The suppressants made his senses human-like and dull. They had done nothing for what the old man had called guide-hunger. When a sentinel was rated beta class or above there was a natural tendency of them to, for lack of a better term, pine for their match—it was why sentinels that didn’t find their match sometimes reverted back to null.The need for your guide was instinctual and something that modern medicine had still not figured out how to ameliorate.Miguel was, in so many ways, more than EZ could have ever dreamed of what his guide would be. The old man had warned him about the subsuming need for the attention and sheltering shields of their matched guide. EZ hadn’t given those warnings enough credit despite his repetitive hearing of them.

“Talk. You’ve got five minutes to convince me or I’m gone,” Miguel said, his tone cold as he slid down the wall, back against it and pulled the blanket to cover his naked form, hiding it from EZ’s eyes.

The denial of Miguel’s body... that hurt unexpectedly. His guide had been open and trusting just minutes before and the whiplash in emotions was hurtful. Clearing his throat, EZ tried to think of where to begin. It would probably be best to start at the beginning. “How much do you know about why and how I got sent to prison with a thirty-five year sentence?”

Miguel’s curiosity was piqued. “You killed someone. Emily was vague but my mother was thorough... I just don’t remember since it wasn’t really relevant at the time.”

Nodding, EZ looked at the floor, licking his lips as he tried to figure out how to tell the story of his downfall. He was actually ashamed about what he’d done at the time, how out of control he’d been when he’d come online. “My mother... I was going to our family butcher shop to help her close for the night. It was late and I saw someone running away from the shop... it was dark... I knew... I knew something bad had happened.”

He didn’t look to see what Miguel thought of this and just let the words tumble from his mouth. “I entered the shop... and she died as soon as I got to her. Lying in a pool of blood. The smell... I... the blood... I think I came online right as she took her last breath. I still remember it. I kneeled down next to her, trying to feel for a pulse but her chest didn’t move after the last breath and there was just so much blood.” He ignored Miguel’s own sharp intake of breath and continued. “I grabbed the gun my pops kept under the register and I ran after the man I had seen. I don’t remember how we ended up on the roofs but I was screaming at him to stop.”

“He didn’t stop,” Miguel stated, his eyes slightly more calm when EZ glanced at him.

“No he didn’t. I.. I let off the entire clip of shots. I wasn’t very careful and the stimulation from the noise and the flash... I should have zoned,” EZ’s voice was shaking slightly but he kept on. “I hit a cop. He died.”

Miguel made a noise in the back of his throat but EZ didn’t look up. He knew if he looked at Miguel he wouldn’t be able to finish. “I.. I don’t exactly remember what happened after I shot him. It’s pretty jumbled and my next clear memory was after they injected me with a suppressant the next morning.Did you know... if you’re a sentinel... and you commit a crime it’s seen as you’re an abomination? Sentinels are supposed to protect the tribe and I shot and killed a cop as my first act after coming online.”

“I did not know that,” Miguel’s voice was soft, pained. EZ still didn’t look at him. He had to get this out.

“The sentinel section at Stockton... it’s where they put you after you’re convicted. I... normally it would have been second degree but because it was a cop... mandatory sentence was thirty five to life, no parole.They put me in the unbonded section. Told me I’d revert back to being a null since I didn’t have a guide and then I’d serve out my time in with the rest of the nulls—cheaper to do it that way than care for a sentinel his entire sentence. The whole place is designed to numb your senses. Everything painted the same bland grayish tan. Food is as blah as they can get away with making it. Everything they can to make you unable to focus your senses on something novel.”

“They force sentinels inert,” Miguel growled, angry now on behalf of EZ despite himself.

EZ shrugged, fingers picking at a loose string on the comforter. “It usually works. The old man... he was put in there because he was inactive but not null after his guide died. He’s been there for almost fifteen years now.I... everyone else they put in there after me reverted to null and most of those that were still active when I arrived. They only allow an hour of yard time and you get one meal out of your cell for social hour. So they follow the bare minimum not to call it solitary.”

Miguel was snarling now, his anger palpable in the air. “The old man... he talked about the old ways. The power behind the bond and it’s trade offs. Why you would want to belong to someone else you couldn’t choose so completely.” EZ trailed off, daring to glance up at Miguel. Miguel was staring at him, the same look of possessive hunger back in his eyes but it was battling with the anger still. He was listening. “I... I don’t know why I didn’t revert. I remember the shrink being fascinated that Emily breaking it off with me wasn’t enough to do it. They.. the shrinks... the ‘education program’ that I had to go through as a sentinel in prison... they all seemed to think I’d never get out. That I would always be one of the stained ones.”

“Stained ones?” 

“A sentinel stained by dishonoring his tribe so much that no guide would ever want to so much as touch me. I had a few zones... and the doctor administered first aid. I never got helped by a guide.”

The anger in the room flared. Miguel was viciously angry on his behalf and EZ could feel it. He tried to focus on it since it told him Miguel still wanted him, that he was still Miguel’s sentinel if he was wrapping his shields protectively around EZ so he could continue talking. EZ knew that Miguel was going by instinct—this was no guild-trained guide. The only time he’d ever dealt with one of those was when he was in court and the guide had treated him like a leper.

“How do they get away with this?” Miguel was indignant, forgetting why he was angry for a moment.

“Because I shamed the tribe... it’s..... the movies aren’t wrong when they say the instinct is to serve the tribe and that most sentinels go into law enforcement or the military.”

“You’d just come online!” Miguel insisted. “There were mitigating circumstances.

EZ shrugged. His legal aid lawyer had gotten him a deal that he would be parole eligible after the mandated minimum sentence. At the time... he’d had to be talked into taking it instead of just going to trial and getting life—his shame had been that deep once he’d realized what he’d done and how he’d ruined his life. His family didn’t have the sorts of financial resources Miguel did to hire a fancy lawyer for the poor Mexican kid who’d killed a cop.His pops had smelled of shame and regret, telling EZ exactly what his pops thought of him. He had an acute understanding of why so many sentinels committed suicide if they didn’t revert to null.“I can’t... I felt like I deserved it at the time. I wasn’t exactly fighting my fate.”

Miguel looked like he wanted to argue but checked himself. “So how did you get out? It hasn’t been thirty-five years.”

“I signed an agreement to be an undercover confidential informant.”

Miguel, who’d been preparing to rant about how he should have fought his court case, looked at him dumbfounded. “You what?”

EZ sighed. “My cousin... he’s a DEA agent. He agreed to get me out if I was an informant for him.”

“And you joined a motor cycle gang?” Miguel was incredulous. “The Mayans will kill you. Your brother will kill you. Nobody will ever find your body.”

“They aren’t the target,” EZ cut him off.

Miguel stared. He was waiting for EZ to confirm what he suspected.

“You’re the target—or rather your cartel is.I don’t think my cousin ever thought I’d get anywhere close to you.”The admission hung in the air between them. Miguel looked like EZ had struck him and the shields that he’d woven around them constricted in pain.

“Would you do that? Now?” Miguel finally asked, voice cracking.

EZ’s denial was swift. “No. You’re my guide,” he pleaded. “You know what that means.”

“Do I?”

EZ didn’t hide his pain at Miguel’s question, allowing the guide to poke at it like a sore tooth. “You’re my guide... my everything. Can’t you feel it? I thought I’d never find you... that I’d die in Stockton never to so much as get a hint of you. Die while waiting to get out to find you.”

“Why would you...” Miguel trailed off, his gaze narrowing. “Why would you die in Stockton. You said thirty-five years not life.”

EZ’s tone was matter-of-fact. “Those unbonded sentinels that don’t revert to null?More than nine out of ten commit suicide before their sentences are up.”

Unsettled and unhappy, Miguel sprang up and began pacing in agitation, throwing the occasional look at EZ who hadn’t moved. “You’d do this?” He finally asked as he turned on his heel, unmindful of his nudity.

“Let’s just say that I understand why they do it,” EZ tried to sidestep the question.

“No. Would you have done it?” Miguel stopped to stare at him, unblinking.

“Yes,” EZ whispered. He’d thought of it a lot during his time in Stockton. The only reason he hadn’t was the ephemeral promise of a guide that was his and his Pops’ regular visits and talking about the world outside the prison walls to remind him that there still was a real world. Angel would have been okay if he’d died... but his Pops? His dad currently seemed to be waiting for him to screw it all up—pushing him to work with Kevin but still protective. It would have killed his Pops to have EZ commit suicide. But EZ had been slipping more just before cousin Kevin had shown up on his visitor list.

He’d been close.

So close.

His barely audible confession saddened Miguel, his guide looking like he was about to cry, eyes big as he stared at EZ and a fine tremor shaking his muscles. “You would have left me?”

“I didn’t,” EZ insisted. “In the end... I couldn’t if you were still out there somewhere.It’s why I took the deal.”

“To find me.” It was a statement not a question.

“To find you,” EZ confirmed, dropping his gaze to the carpet under Miguel’s bare feet, unsure if he wanted to know what Miguel thought of him for his actions—condemnation would shatter him now as would rejection. “I didn’t... I hoped... I... dared to think you might still want me.”

***

_IV. Miguel_

His sentinel was an idiot.

An absolute fucking idiot.

But he was Miguel’s idiot, damnit.

EZ had not been given a fair hearing—Miguel was sure of it and he was about to bet his entire life on it. The shame EZ carried around for something he’d done when he’d been unstable from his mother’s murder was honorable, noble and self-sacrificing. Which should not have been so attractive to Miguel given his chosen profession.. but it was.The part of him that was a guide.. that allowed him to feel emotions told him that EZ had been heartbroken while wasting away in prison. The depression that tinged the air when he spoke of Stockton, the smell of a thunderstorm of emotions between them... EZ thought he was unworthy of him.

He wasn’t sure it wasn’t the other way around. Hadn’t he, after all his father’s planning to give him a normal life, taken up the mantel willingly after his father had died? His mother had been relieved to see him step up which should have been the first warning sign. Her advice regarding replacing Cristóbal—like his son was so easily forgotten and discarded like his namesake when Miguel could just have another son.

He wasn’t replaceable to EZ.

He wasn’t the second option.

He wasn’t the disappointment.

He was EZ’s guide and EZ was his Sentinel—there were no mistaking that fact.

EZ just needed to understand one simple thing:

He was Miguel’s.

EZ had dropped his gaze again and had hung his head,sitting on the bed with the worn navy comforter bunched in his lap, fingers pulling at the threading. The despondency that surrounded him like a thick cloud was cloying and annoying to Miguel when he realized he hadn’t said anything in response to EZ’s confession and the idiot sentinel had taken it the wrong way.

Covering the distance between them in two strides, Miguel lunged at EZ and knocked him backwards into the pillows, straddling him as they bounced on the springs and gripping EZ’s chin with his right hand to pull their faces together. EZ was startled, open to Miguel to read and hiding nothing, submissive to whatever Miguel wanted.Diving deep, Miguel bit at EZ’s mouth and thrust his tongue between the teeth that opened as EZ gasped, arching beneath him. Hungrily claiming his sentinel, Miguel was aggressive with teeth, tongue and lips as he ground his hips down into EZ’s as the bonding heat flared back into existence, tugging him towards EZ. The connection between them was like a live wire, sparks exploding around them and it pulled them together until there was no space left between sentinel and guide.

Pulling back just enough to talk into EZ’s mouth, Miguel announced his claim to make sure EZ understood his intentions. “You’re mine. Mine to keep. Mine. My Sentinel.”He dove back in, EZ yielding to him but responding to each stroke of tongue.

EZ’s acceptance was the tentative touch as his arms encircled Miguel, pulling their bodies to rut against one another. Miguel’s skin was on fire, clutching at EZ to consume him and bring them closer together. EZ enthusiastically responded and when Miguel forcefully spread his sentinel’s legs he met no resistance. Beneath him, EZ panted, his pupils blown so that there was only a faint rim of dark chocolate visible. Nostrils flared as he scented Miguel, mouth open and whines escaping his throat when Miguel’s fingers encircled his cock and gave a few rough strokes to bring it to fullness.

Miguel had previously been focused on taking EZ within him, having his sentinel’s claim as deep within him as possible. Now he needed the opposite. He wanted to consume, to take, to fuck, to possess. EZ was his and it was Miguel’s mark on his neck.

The tube of lube from earlier was found and Miguel coated several fingers before working them steadily into EZ. EZ just grabbed his knees and spread himself open as wide as possible, bearing down and clenching around Miguel’s fingers as he was roughly prepped. Miguel was impatient but he still was careful about using enough slick and giving EZ time before introducing the next finger. When he found EZ’s prostate, the strangled yelp of pleasure followed by the enthusiastic rocking back of the hips told him he’d found the point of maximal pleasure. Miguel ruthlessly manipulated that spot, working a third and then a fourth finger in as EZ strained to get more of them, almost sobbing as he pleaded with Miguel for more as he reflected back the sensations EZ was broadcasting until he was caught in a feedback loop and almost insensate with pleasure.

Pleased with the response he was getting, Miguel lazily reclaimed EZ’s mouth. His fingers that weren’t within EZ’s channel plucked at his nipples until they were rigid peaks.EZ’s body was an instrument that he was the master of. A stroke here, a feathering pressure of fingertips there. The responses EZ gave were the music he was creating before he reclaimed his sentinel’s mouth in a kiss before trailing down his neck and chest to suckle at each nipple.

EZ was babbling nonsense and the only word consistently recognizable was Miguel’s name and please. Releasing the swollen nipple after a sharp nip, Miguel pulled his fingers out and slicked himself. The sentinel underneath him just watched, breathing heavily but didn’t resist when Miguel gripped his right leg and guided it over his shoulder.

The scream of pleasure as Miguel entered EZ in one powerful, steady push was telling. EZ dug his heels into Miguel, pulling as much as he was able to get leverage to engulf his guide completely. Under his hands, the muscles trembled as EZ grunted and whined, trying to get Miguel to begin moving immediately but he held still, waiting for that last bit of relaxationwhich let him slide deep to the root within EZ. EZ was breathing like he’d run a marathon, big gulps of air in and out, muscles strained and trembling as he tried to get enough leverage to make Miguel move, his channel contracting tightly around Miguel. He was so much tighter than any woman despite the stretching and Miguel struggled to give EZ time to adjust.

“Shh...” Miguel told him, cupping his Sentinel’s face, their lips less than an inch apart and their gazes held. “Let me in EZ. Let me in...”

It was as if a dam broke. The flood of emotion as EZ relaxed and surrendered blew Miguel’s mind so much that he lost his sense of time as his mind overloaded and he dove deep with his senses, digging for that iron core of EZ’s that was his lodestone and melded himself with it in a permanent claim of ownership so deep it would bar any other guide from attempting to go this deep within EZ’s psyche. The physical sense of EZ’s python like limbs urging him on made his body respond, fucking in and out, mouths touching just long enough to kiss before breaking to gasp for air as the bonding heat urged them faster and harder as it took hold of them again. They were both saying things to each other but it was, at best, babbling. The real communication was between their physical bodies and their minds, both coupling hungrily.

The bed squeaked under him to slap against the wall with muffled, rhythmic thuds. His hair was gripped tight in EZ’s fist as he increased the stretch to open EZ further to him, delving deeper with each powerful thrust. The echo of the strain EZ’s muscles were in made him adjust just enough to gain purchase and drive EZ further towards the peak of pleasure.

When they peaked, it was simultaneous. The brief pause of ultimate pleasure before the rush down as release was achieved. His hips still weakly fucking into EZ, he straightened slightly to kiss EZ’s knee before letting his leg fall, finishing as EZ spasmed underneath him in aftershocks, a dribble of cum escaping his sentinel’s cock with each lazy rocking thrust directly pushing his cock’s head against that pleasure spot within EZ as he milked his own release Overstimulated, EZ whimpered but clutched at Miguel so he couldn’t pull out, clenching to hold him in.

He gave into the hands that pulled him to rest on top of EZ, their mouths finding one another again as his hips stilled. “Ezekiel... my EZ....” he whispered against the lips against his. “Mine.”

“Yours,” was the whispered agreement.

There was no resistance as fatigue overwhelmed him and he pulled EZ with him as the spirit realm summoned him.

***

The spirit realm experience was odd. One moment Miguel was on all fours, racing the wind through the canyons and desert, chasing the sun as his pace picked up and his ears pricked to listen for pursuit, nose up in the air scenting the wind with his tail like a flag streaming behind him in his wake. The feeling of the chase, the thrill. Jumping down a steep mountain trail, the loose shale underneath his paws ricocheted and the echoing call of his mate as the soft pad of a set of paws behind him. Everything was fragmented, nothing was quite like it usually was but that was okay. As EZ bowled into him, they tumbled to the dirt and squabbled like children, teeth nipping and paws slapping against each other but not deep enough to harm.

At times he was Miguel, human and guide. Cradled in the protective arms of his sentinel in the long grass beside the river, sheltered in the shade of a massive tree, the smell of fresh air and dappled sunlight through the branches on his skin warming him as EZ and he mated. Switching positions and constantly hungry for one another as the bonding heat burned through them, relentless and unending.

At others he was the desert wolf, howling for his mate to join him in the moonlit hunt. Running. Jumping. Chasing. But always with his mate by his side, his sentinel.

He could sense the ghosts of others around them, sheltering them, observing but not interfering. He knew these others and was unbothered by them. They were pack to his mind. The simplicity of the animal’s instincts muddling with the human cognition should have made him fight but he didn’t.

Night and day cycled, the seasons turned and yet time somehow stood still.

Looking at his reflection in the water, he was both man and wolf, EZ beside him.They were Sentinel and Guide.

***

The smell of cooking bacon woke him from his strange dreams. He was warm, burrowed under the navy comforter that had been washed and rewashed so many times that it was feather soft against his skin. His body ached pleasantly, the result of a good workout and endorphins from sexual release in a way he hadn’t felt possibly ever. Face down in the pillow that smelled like EZ’s aftershave, Miguel curled around it. There was no warm body with him under the covers and he was naked, morning wood stiffening at the thought of EZ even as his balls ached from repetitive emptying. When he moved, the ache at the base of his spine was a sharp bolt of warning—he’d overdone it a bit, was it yesterday? Today?

Bacon meant breakfast. It must be morning he reasoned and blearily opened his eyes. The room was still dim, curtains pulled tight to keep the room semi-dark. The scent of EZ and sex made him take a deep breath to appreciate the musky smell even as dried cum made itself known and pulled at his skin as he rolled over, hand rubbing at his eyes that had sand at the corner of his eyes. He was beyond gross but he didn’t care—just floating in the half awake state. He could feel EZ and he was near, content.

He fell back asleep but awoke when the bed dipped from the weight of EZ kneeling next to him. The covers were gently pulled back and the coolness of the room made his skin pebble as he shivered at the contrast in temperature. His arm was draped over his eyes and he didn’t open them when the same hand that had pulled the covers back cupped his hip before caressing it’s way up his side, thumb and fingers splayed as it’s twin cupped his cock.

Groaning, he let his legs be nudged apart by EZ’s chest and the warm exhale of breath was the only warning before EZ deep throated him and he curled forward, hands seeking the back of his sentinel’s head. EZ was purpose driven, sucking and swallowing, coming up only for a brief exchange of air before working his way back down with a hum.

“Fuck,” Miguel gasped and curled his fingers around the delicate skull underneath his hands that moved up and down as EZ worked, fingernails scratching at the patch of skin behind the shell of the ear. EZ easily hefted Miguel up, throwing both of his knees over the powerful shoulders to open him more, nose buried in Miguel’s pelvic bone as he took him even deeper. Miguel let out an embarrassingly high pitched whine when a finger pushed past the sore ring of muscle to unerringly target his prostate and he was gone, body spasming as another orgasm as pulled from it by his sentinel embarrassingly quick, unable to look away as EZ happily continued to suckle at his cock, head bobbing in counterpoint from the aftershocks delivered by the digit within him.

EZ’s lips were obscene, the way they sealed down and his throat contracted as he swallowed. When EZ finally released Miguel, he opened his eyes to meet Miguel’s gaze, eyes dilated in arousal as he let the softening cock slip out of his mouth, a trail of saliva and seamen at the corner of his mouth and he wiped it away with the back of his hand before licking it back up, Miguel’s legs sliding from his shoulders.

Breath caught, Miguel couldn’t look away. “EZ...”

EZ stood, he’d showered and was wearing soft sleep pants that were tented at the crotch. “I made breakfast—should be ready soon. Get showered?”

Opening and closing his mouth before thinking of what to say, Miguel couldn’t hold back the noise of disappointment as EZ pulled away.

“Later. I’ll keep. Breakfast will be cold if you wait too long,” was the playful evasion.

Before he could haul EZ back down to him to force the issue, he escaped through the open doorway. Miffed, Miguel slowly sat and hissed at the discomfort in his ass as he shifted his weight. He’d overdone it but he’d be damned if he was going to let EZ know that. Standing with a bit of effort not to lurch forward, he found the shared family bathroom.

He could see why EZ had showered before him. It was a bathtub shower combo and lifting his legs to climb in took effort.The shower head was small but had good water pressure. The water was hot and plentiful and he used the soap that was available, the simple clean scent that he associated with EZ coming from the bar soap. By the time he finally shut off the water, there was a cloud of moisture in the air and he switched on the fan, the mirror completely covered in condensation. Wrapping a towel around his hips, he took a second one and wiped the mirror down so he could see himself.

The claiming mark was a massive purple bruise on the right side of his neck, the sharp outline of EZ’s teeth visible despite the swelling and already scaring over. Poking it tenderly, it didn’t hurt surprisingly. It was far from the only mark that EZ had left on him. There were faint marks on his chest and abdomen as well as the handprint shaped ones on both his hips, the fingers stretched out to mark the curve of his ass that matched the ones on his inner thighs. He’d been marked up by lovers before but this was pretty extensive. And they didn’t hurt... which was odd. Other than when he purposefully put pressure on one mark, he barely was aware of them and he could see they were rapidly fading other than bite mark over his pulse point.

He startled at the light knock on the door and before he could open it, EZ poked his head in, eyes zeroing in on the marks with a look of possessive pride that heated Miguel’s skin from the blaze of emotion. Clearing his throat, Miguel didn’t say anything, aware he was blushing at EZ’s look and it wasn’t confined to just his face. He’d been beyond disinhibited and demanding last night—unlike his usual self but aware that EZ had enjoyed it. The slight slip of the knot on his towel had him fumbling to grasp the edges before it could fall.

“I brought you some clothes. Feel free to use the blue toothbrush,” EZ finally said, placing a soft pair of sweats on the counter before ducking back behind the door and closing it, leaving Miguel standing in his towel, blushing madly. Grabbing the blue toothbrush from the holder, he slathered on some toothpaste and brushed his teeth. He needed to get a grip—EZ was running circles around him this morning and it should be the other way around.

Spitting in the sink, he pulled the sweatpants on, having to pull at the drawstring waist to get them to stay up as he was leaner than EZ. There was a soft, old plain white undershirt that had to be years old. Pulling it over his head, it mostly fit—too small to be EZ’s but it smelled of the same laundry soap and body soap which made Miguel confused. Who did the shirt belong to?Using the comb that was sitting on the medicine cabinet shelf, he quickly put his hair to rights. He was as put together as he was going to get.

Padding barefoot down the hall, he followed his nose to the kitchen. EZ’s back was to him, stirring the scrambled eggs as they cooked. The small, private smile that EZ gave him over his shoulder was relaxed and intimate. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Miguel returned, crowding against EZ’s back, arms slipping around his waist as he rested his chin on the thick shoulder. “What’re you making?”

“I didn’t know how you like your eggs.. and well... I only really can make scrambled without burning them,” EZ confessed, eyes crinkling as his smile widened to reveal dimples.

Brushing his nose against the skin of EZ’s neck, Miguel nodded. “That’s fine. I’ll eat them any way.” Distracted by the warmth of EZ’s body, he let his hands feel the outline of EZ’s abdomen, laughing when EZ caught them with a warning that he didn’t want to burn them. A light kiss behind the ear and Miguel offered to set the table, asking for where the dishes and silverware were stored.

Setting two place settings, Miguel opened the older refrigerator and took out the carton of orange juice under EZ’s directions. Finding two glasses in the cabinet next to the fridge, he grabbed them with with his free hand. By the time he was pouring out two full glasses, EZ was plating the eggs, bacon and hash browns. Suddenly feeling the emptiness in his stomach, Miguel took his seat and dug in with a voracious appetite.EZ did similarly and it took a few minutes for him to realize the reason he was so hungry was he was feeling his own hunger and sensing EZs. Neither of them had been talking, just focusing on getting some calories, Miguel looked up over the table to see EZ trying to use good table manners but was, if one was being gracious, still shoveling in eggs.

It was ridiculous and Miguel started to laugh, snorting into his orange juice.

Startled, EZ looked up and swallowed his mouthful, eyebrow cocked. “What?”

Stifling his laughter just enough to talk, Miguel shook his head. “We’re both so hungry.”

EZ thought a moment and then nodded, snorting in laughter himself. “It’s an after effect. You didn’t think we could do all that last night and not burn a lot of calories?”

“Any other surprises?” Miguel asked wearily.

Shrugging, EZ spearedhis eggs and dabbed them in the hot sauce pool on the side of his plate. “If we were... bonding like normal in a center?I was told that most bonding heats for beta ratings and above last three to four days at most.”

“Beta?” Miguel was confused. He thought EZ had mentioned that term before but he didn’t know what it meant—also what did he mean if they were bonding in a center?

“Sentinel and guide pairs usually are about the same level. Nestor—your security guy—he’s maybe C class. Prolly has two senses that are elevated but not as strong as they could be.”

Nodding, Miguel remembered the precautions Nestor took. “Sight and taste.He eats the most god-awful bland stuff so he doesn’t zone. Has since we were kids.”

“I thought as much. Otherwise he should have known about you right away—there was no way he had scent as one of his enhanced senses.”

“But you mentioned beta—is that better or more powerful than a C class?”Miguel had grown up with Nestor. Nestor had come online after his grandmother had died in a car accident with him in the backseat when he was twelve. He’d been gone for months getting training on how to use his senses—had missed a lot of school and Miguel had been responsible for picking up his homework for him. The casual way EZ mentioned being a beta made Miguel assume he was one.

“Beta and alpha level mean you have three or more enhanced senses... typically when you hit three you’re more likely to have all five somewhat above normal—the question is degree. Alpha means that you’re able to focus on each one and dial in, sometimes using two senses at the maximum of your range. Almost all alpha class have all five senses able to dial up to max. Beta... is less than that but not C class. There’s a lot of variety in a beta class sentinel.”EZ had his face screwed up in thought as he tried to explain, fork waving slightly as gestured at himself. “When I first got put on suppressants they had to measure my abilities to dose me right—it took them a while to fine tune it.The first few weeks in lockup I had a lot of zones because they have to ramp the dosage up or you just blank your senses entirely.”

“That sounds horrible. The more you tell me about prison the more angry I’m getting,” Miguel growled. The anger that had simmered since last night threatened to flare and boil over. EZ hadn’t been best served by anyone—he was sure of this. There had to be protections for someone like EZ who’d been so vulnerable and out of control. It wasn’t fair to assume a newly awakened sentinel without training to be completely in control. There were mitigating circumstances and EZ had already paid with eight years in prison. He needed to talk to his lawyers and set them on getting EZ’s deal reworked.

“It’s not ideal,” EZ brushed Miguel’s concern aside, refocusing on his explanation but his slightly hunched shoulders and the bond between them telling Miguel that he was slightly ashamed still of talking about being in prison even if he didn’t say so. “I know I’m probably beta class. Without a guide and being on suppressants for so long after I came online they never bothered to nail down my levels compared to others and... well... I haven’t exactly sought out the sentinel and guide community since I’ve been out.”

“Why not?”Miguel knew of the centers because of the advertising that was ubiquitous and his own minimal training when he’d been in grade school. From what he remembered it was heavily stressed that you should get in contact with the Sentinel and Guide Centers as soon as you manifested—he’d gotten the impression that it was for the newly awakened sentinel or guide’s benefit that you’d do so. The Centers had a lot of political, financial and legal power in the US.

The grimace EZ gave at his question was telling more than his words. “Remember how that guide when I was being tried?That was the general reception I’ve gotten.I did my required registration in case of a medical emergency but otherwise I stay away.”

Miguel added another thing to have his lawyers on mentally, frowning himself. “There is no reason for them to treat you like that. Their mission—at least according to their own propaganda—is that they exist to support all sentinels and guides.”

Another face. “Yeah... my impression is that they have their own motives even if they might not be all bad. I just... I didn’t want to feel that judged again.”EZ dropped his gaze, no longer looking at Miguel, shoulders now dropping as he played with his food instead of eating it. Miguel could feel the echo of EZ’s stomach still wanting more food but his mood had fallen.

Reaching out, Miguel clasped EZ’s forearm, his fingers caressing over the pulse point before twining their fingers and tightening firmly palm to palm. “EZ,” he called gently for his sentinel which made his eyes flicker to Miguel’s. “Would they have anything they’d do for us differently?”

EZ shrugged, considering Miguel’s question before answering. “Maybe?I... the old man I learned the most from wasn’t in favor of their methods—he spoke of the old ways before there were centers. He.. I think that the way they encourage bonding is a lot less...” EZ coughed, blushing slightly but his eyes were soft and the private smile that seemed to be only for Miguel returned. “less primal. Less sexual.”

Miguel cocked his head, returning the affection with his own smile. “You mean how we can’t seem to keep our hands off each other?”

EZ shifted in his seat, the wave of arousal even at the mild implication told Miguel that whatever they’d started wasn’t completely done yet. A couple of days in the center? What would it be like outside of one? Should they contact one?Clearing his throat, EZ nodded with a quick duck of his head. “The official teaching I got at Stockton seemed to indicate a mild sexual attraction that most of bonding required some meditation and imprinting. The old man said their version was the watered down bullshit to make the pearl clutching puritan public happy.”

“Oh?” Miguel could just imagine his mother’s reaction to how attached he already was to EZ. She had been a nightmare with Emily... EZ would not meet her standards any better and if she had any clue about how their bonding had gone thus far..... she’d definitely have her society ladies working with her to drive EZ away if it wasn’t a permanent thing.“But most sentinel and guide parings are considered more iron clad than marriage—at least legally from what I understand. That’s why there’s the protection statutes.”

“Raul—the old man—said that those were passed at the same time that the sentinel and guide centers were being funded so the protections come from the old ways.He said that the bonds formed the old way tended to be exclusionary—that no spouse could compete if you were at least beta level which I think we are. That’s why divorces aren’t contested if a sentinel or guide meets their match and they were previously married.... EZ trailed off, wincing as he brought up divorce, trying to withdraw his hand from Miguel’s.

Tightening his hand to not let EZ escape, it made the wedding band he still wore bite into his finger since he almost never took it off. Emily and his marriage wasn’t something he’d spent a lot of time thinking about since meeting EZ yesterday and they’d had a lot of difficulty in their relationship the last few weeks. Emily and his marriage was going to need to be addressed at some point but he needed to know where he stood with EZ first. “Emily and I are going to be an issue,” he neutrally stated before carefully pulling his hand out of EZ’s just long enough to pull off the ring and put it next to his glass before rethreading their fingers. “However I think we need to just focus on us for the moment.What did this Raul say about bonds?”

EZ licked his lips, staring at the ring before refocusing on Miguel. “The old way... it’s the bonds that romance novels like to emulate but without the trade offs. One sentinel for one guide. Exclusive. Forever. The depth of it though... it depends on the willingness of the pair to give up their control over it. The word he used was subsume and I.. I think that’s the right term. The more you give up the more you get.”

Miguel mentally probed the tie he had to EZ. Information flowed continually over it telling him how EZ felt. Slight embarrassment still was present but there was an undercurrent of want and... emotional and sexual hunger that was directed at Miguel that when he focused on it made similar emotions stir within himself. Whatever else either of them would say... the bond had an intense physical and sexual component to it and he was unbothered by it and didn’t care who knew about it. The possessive stirring he felt towards EZ was complicated and even though he didn’t know much about his sentinel he knew he felt strongly affectionate if not already was in love with him. The steady pulse of awareness of EZ, the concern for his needs, the wanting to have him happy and pleased, the desire for his attention were all there and it felt to Miguel more powerful than even his relationship with his wife. He could sense the same complexity of refracted emotions within EZ like a twinned reflection that matched just right. He suspected over time that all the edges of emotions shared between them would blur like it already did in spots unless he focused on it directly to separate it out into what he and what EZ was feeling.“What kind of bond did Raul have with his guide?You talk like it’s under our control but it doesn’t feel like that.”

Shaking his head in the negative, EZ tried to explain. “Raul had a very deep bond with his guide...he went inactive but not null when they were killed because it was something he’d developed for over a decade. The bond isn’t something we actively control but if we don’t fight it... it’ll keep deepening. The center says bonding fever lasts a few days but Raul’s... he said it lasted months in fits and starts. In some ways it doesn’t ever end if you keep letting it. The most intense period of it is in the first week or so but thinking it’s done is what stops it from developing further.”

Miguel churned over the information. So what he got now... was just the beginning?They were both wide open to each other but he could tell when EZ pulled back and it made him instinctively chase mentally after him until EZ stopped, not wanting to be left behind. It was incredibly terrifying to think if he would loose his sense of self and control but it hadn’t bothered him so far had it?He wasn’t bothered by how far he’d let in EZ and that fact did bother him because it should—or at least two days ago it would have. Mentally poking around, he tugged on the tether that he associated with EZ which got a twitch out of his sentinel but he didn’t say anything, waiting on Miguel. If he followed the mental strand that led to EZ, it spidered out within Miguel touching so many parts of himself to pull his awareness towards EZ but still let him function. That inner iron core was the foundation that Miguel had centeredhimself around and his shields were anchored there and stable.

“Guide’s need their sentinel to ground them....” he murmured, still looking inwards, aware the hand in his tightened. He could feel all those ties and when examined he could label them with individual emotions or sensations that tied them. The very thought of severing them made him quake in anger and fear. No. They would be treasured and he knew that if they broke it would tear him apart. He suddenly got the reason almost no guide survived the loss of their sentinel. It was not infrequent when a high level sentinel died the announcement of their guide’s death either was on the news at the same time or it followed closely. Gripping EZ back, he looked at his sentinel who had a careful, neutral look on his face. “I understand what you’re talking about.But if we’re beta level... do we need to talk to the center?”

“Probably,” EZ offered. “There are some medical reasons to have them aware of us in case of injury. Regular hospitals... just visiting Emily with the sounds and smells... there’s a reason there’s sentinel and guide specific units.The center would make sure that we’d get appropriate care.”

“Any other reasons?”

A shrug. “I haven’t exactly sought them out. I’m not in a hurry though. I think...” EZ’s brow furrowed. “I want our bond settled before that. I don’t want,” he stopped and swallowed heavily, scowling slightly. “I don’t want you to regret me.....and I know it’s selfish to want this even if you’d be better off with another sentinel that isn’t likely to end back up in prison for violating his deal.”

“You are my sentinel,” Miguel let EZ understand his anger at the very suggestion that he should have another sentinel and ignored the part where EZ was confessing to feeling selfish for wanting him back. “I have lawyers and I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

The twisting expression was complicated on EZ’s face. “I don’t want you having to visit me in Stockton.”

“It won’t come to that,” he insisted with finality. If necessary he would leave the US rather than give up EZ but it wouldn’t be necessary. He had good lawyers and if necessary there was always information that he had to bargain with. “Who is your contact?”

“My cousin,” EZ said after a pause. “He’s a good guy and a sentinel. Gave me a second chance.”

Miguel would give the agent a chance since he was related to EZ and seemed willing to help him even if he’d attached strings—he theoretically understood the position. Nodding, he asked, “How do you contact him?”

EZ rolled his eyes. “It’s more how does he contact me. He’s been annoying my Pops, trying to make sure I’m behaving myself.”

Chuckling in amusement, Miguel decided he already liked this agent more since he obviously cared about EZ and the emotions he was getting from EZ were annoyance tinged with respect and a sense of family. “Can he help with Cristóbal?”

“We won’t need him but we should probably head out.I’m not sure if it would be better to take him after dark or during daylight,” EZ stood and gathered his dishes.

Following his sentinel, Miguel helped with clearing the table. “Do we need anything?”

EZ gave him a judging look, watching how Miguel moved without restriction despite the earlier aches. “I have some old clothes from high school that should fit you. What size boots?”

Starting to wash the dishes as EZ finished clearing the table, Miguel told him and he said that his pop’s old boots should work. Nodding, Miguel focused on cleaning the dishes and EZ began drying, automatically taking each dish after he rinsed it off. They made short work of cleaning the kitchen and when he pulled the plug on the sink to let the water drain he found himself pinned against it by EZ at his back, arms gripping the counter to bracket him.

“Miguel,” EZ whispered before kissing him behind the ear. “I promise you we’ll have Cristóbal today. Can you trust me?”

Turning, hands still wet as he tangled them in EZ’s t-shirt, he kissed EZ. EZ’s arms wrapped around him, pressing them together from knee to mouth causing him to groan. The flare of heat between them was undeniable but EZ gentled the kiss, his hand resting at the base of Miguel’s back as the kiss ended. “I trust you,” Miguel whispered, trying to reconnect and kiss again but EZ pulled back.

Frustrated, Miguel met EZ’s eyes as his face was cradled by the sentinel. “My guide,” EZ called, thumb caressing Miguel’s jaw and expression serious. “I promise you.”

Not able to speak, Miguel just nodded, hands twisting to pull EZ back to kiss again and he didn’t resist this time.

When the kiss broke, EZ released him and stepped back. Rubbing the back of his head, EZ was flushed, the bulge in his sweats drawing Miguel’s attention but he shuffled out of reach. “We need to get ready,” he insisted as his cheeks blushed. “Later. What I want to do will wait.”

“Fine,” Miguel huffed. He’d go along with EZ for now.

***

EZ wasn’t kidding when he said he had clothes from high school that would fit Miguel.Evidently his Pops hadn’t thrown anything away when EZ had been in prison and he’d bulked up a lot in prison—nothing to do but body weight exercises, read or stare at the wall. EZ had spoken offhandedly, neutral and just stating it as a fact. Miguel wanted to rail at someone on his behalf but knew now was not the time. Accepting a pair of worn jeans and boots, EZ had found an old leather jacket and handed it over to see if it would fit and it worked so Miguel kept hold of it. Packing a bag of supplies, EZ had water, a soft blanket for Cristóbal. They’d stop for formulas and diapers. Explaining that he knew a way over the border that wouldn’t be watched, Miguel followed directions.

They took the old beat up pickup truck that had been parked alongside the house that belonged to EZ’s dad and headed out towards the border and the desert.


	3. V-VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> EZ and Miguel go in search of their son and meet all the father figures in EZ’s life.

_V. EZ_

When he’d given the gun to Miguel, his guide had given him a hard stare but his hands had been confident as he checked the safety and clip showing experience before tucking it under the waistband right above his fantastic ass. Miguel had smirked when he’d pulled on the jeans that fit well over his ass, the borrowed boxers now hidden. EZ hadn’t been able to look away as the smooth skin had been covered up. Seeing Miguel in his clothes, taking a deep breath and only scenting himself on Miguel... he’d almost not let them leave the house.

Raul had warned about the desire to nest. The desire to keep Miguel hidden away, protected, cherished and well fucked.Especially that. Miguel should always look like he’d spent all night being fucked and kissed, bite mark prominent over his pulse and unhidden by the collar of EZ’s old shirt. He hadn’t been able to resist giving Miguel a blow job this morning and he’d had to bat wandering hands away multiple times from his own crotch or he would have just taken Miguel on the floor of the kitchen or hallway even though he knew his guide had to be sore from their joining.The thought of sliding into his guide as he screamed at him for more.. his cock hadn’t been fully soft since their first coupling and frequent readjustment hadn’t gone unnoticed by Miguel given the smirk and spike of arousal down their bond.

The intimacy.

The want.

The promise of sweat slicked bodies finding their peak together.

The need.

The soul deep hunger to be as close as Miguel would let him in. Feeling like he wanted to crawl underneath the smooth skin and merge them both body and soul, never to be parted.

The amount of control EZ felt he had over himself was like he was sliding around on an oil slick, having to adjust to each swerve and twist that Miguel gave him to remain standing. It was both terrifying and exhilarating.He’d listened to all of Raul’s stories, the only thing had seemingly held him back from the guide hunger despair had been the descriptions of what it was like to have your guide with you—he’d spent so much time imagining what Miguel would be like. He’d had a vague idea that his guide might be male—hence his willingness to be slightly more sexually open in prison. However he’d not been imaginative enough was his brief assessment after having Miguel as his for less than a day. 

Miguel was going to give him a heart attack before age forty if they kept having sex like they had last night.

EZ would die happy though.

They’d stopped briefly for supplies—just enough to fill an old backpack of Angel’s from when he’d had a tendency to go on weekend hikes when they’d both been in high school. Supplies that a baby might need—formula,some packets of puréed fruit that Miguel had indicated Cristóbal liked, diapers, wet wipes, water. Cristóbal Had been in good health when EZ had last seen him but he was still a young infant—only eight or so months old. The anxiety Miguel was projecting was anticipatory and EZ had tangled their hands together while he drove, dropping their shared grip only if he needed to use his hand on turns before regaining the hold.

Miguel was transformed and didn’t look like his usual self in EZ’s old clothes. Curled comfortably into the door, the lean jean covered legs tucked into work boots and the t-shirt filled out nicely by the lithe muscular chest with a slight stretch over the shoulders.An old, sun-faded ball cap rested low on his head with his hair curling slightly from under the back where it was longer, eyes shaded by his old sunglasses the only thing that was from his businessman persona. He smelled like home and EZ just wanted to melt into him.

EZ had to remind himself that he couldn’t just keep Miguel tied to a bed even if the idea had merits.

Seeing the turn off and the small house that hid the entrance to the tunnels, EZ pulled off the main road and pulled into the car port. Exiting the car, Miguel had grabbed the supplies but EZ took the bag from him and put it on his own back. “I’ve got it,” he insisted.

Miguel shrugged and followed EZ inside the house after EZ used the door code to get in. The house itself was in poor shape but there was some furniture inside to make it appear like it was occasionally occupied. The scent was musty indicating that nobody had been here in a week or more. If he focused, EZ could identify some of the other Mayans by their personal scents but they were old. Directing Miguel into the utility room, EZ opened the hidden door that led to the narrow stairway.He’d chosen this route because it would be easier to bring a baby through rather than some of the others that involved ladders or tight spaces. This house was actually owned by someone adjacent to the Mayans so there would be no questions if they saw the pickup in the car port.

Five steps down, there was a pair of flashlights. Picking them up, he handed one to Miguel and turned his own on, letting Miguel pass him by so he could shut the door behind them. “This way,” he said quietly as he joined Miguel at the base of the stairs. The floor was uneven and dirt but the tunnel itself was old and had good bracing.

“Lead the way,” Miguel murmured, his hand resting on EZ’s back to let him know he was right behind him.

Neither of them spoke as EZ lead them over the border. This tunnel joined up with another, bigger and regularly maintained tunnel system that was more frequently traveled. Stretching his senses, EZ was careful and made them wait until two men passed with their flashlights off and just around a curve in the tunnel, aware of Miguel’s presence as a warm feeling that pointed directly where the guide stood patiently. Once the men were safely past, EZ quickly wove his way through the maze of tunnels that he was well acquainted with but could also faintly smell Angel.Angel had come this way more recently than anyone else, maybe only two or three days ago.

Angel had likely been visiting Adelita. The thought of which made him want to snarl at his brother for being an idiot being lead around by his cock... but perhaps EZ shouldn’t say that right now. For the record, being loyal to his guide was different but he knew that Angel wouldn’t understand how EZ felt about Miguel and the differences between their bond and a normal relationship. For everything that he and his brother shared, there was a lot of things that had happened since their mother’s death. Angel was his sponsor in the Mayans but he hadn’t visited very often when EZ was locked up and those visits had been tough. In the beginning Angel had been focused on how EZ had been screwed over and getting him out. The middle had been almost absent but at the end when it was clear he was getting out?That was when Angel started acting like nothing had happened.

A lot had happened.

Angel and he had been on different life trajectories. EZ had a scholarship to Stanford and had made the Dean’s list every semester. Angel had become a mechanic and gone straight into the club after getting out of Chino for an assault charge. His brother was good with his hands, a good mechanic but a lousy student mostly due to unwillingness to do schoolwork he didn’t like. Angel was the athletic one in school and less concerned with academics than having a good time.

He’d had a really good time and mostly stayed out of major trouble.

EZ still wasn’t a 100% sure how Angel had become a Mayan. Every time the story came up he heard a more ridiculous story than the last. Riz had been his official sponsor but he’d been a prospect at the same time as Coco, having been patched in together as Bishop was expanding the charter.

Some days he felt that Coco and Angel were closer than he was with Angel. Eight years had put a space between them that Angel was determined to ignore but EZ couldn’t help but feel especially when he saw the looks they would exchange. Coco was a guide and had come online during his tour in Iraq. While Angel wasn’t his sentinel he still spent most of his time by his side. Angel had briefly tried when EZ first got out to have Coco guide him but it hadn’t gone very well. Coco was caring, a good guy but he also had never got official guide training and he and EZ just didn’t mesh like a sentinel and guide should for the connection to build.

So many questions about how matches worked had occurred to EZ in the last day. Had he already been waiting on Miguel to come online? He’d only ever seen him from a distance up until six weeks ago when they’d started having issues due to Angel’s diverting of the keys.Coco had failed to connect with him almost four months ago now. It had occurred to EZ that if his brother ever came online he was likely to be Coco’s sentinel. Having experienced bonding now... he wondered how Angel would deal with it. Angel wasn’t even slightly curious about sex with men. But it wasn’t EZ’s problem at the moment.

Reaching the end of the tunnel, it began sloping upward. There was a short ladder here but it was only about eight feet instead of fifteen to twenty like some of the entrances and exits had. They’d be able to safely transfer Cristóbal here. Climbing the ladder, he opened the trap door and exited into the factory above them after finding the key box and removing a set of keys. Once clear, he turned back and helped Miguel up.

“Where are we?” Miguel was looking around, noting the noise of the factory around them. The workers were used to comings and goings and nobody came to investigate when EZclosed the door with a soft metallic clunk.

“It’s a factory. Makes textiles.”Miguel nodded, not speaking further but the mental tether tugged slightly and EZ could feel his guide’s worry. “This way.We have two vehicles we leave here for club business.”

Exiting the factory without speaking to any of the workers hunched over their sewing machines, EZ led Miguel to another old pickup truck. It didn’t look like much but it ran well. Climbing in the driver’s side, he stored the pack in the center while Miguel opened the passenger side and slid in. Starting the engine, he headed out of town east. It had taken a lot longer than anticipated and it was mid afternoon now, the heat of the day rising making Miguel fiddle with the AC to get a small amount of cool air to come from the vents before his hand sought EZ’s free one, threading their fingers back together tight. The anticipation was making Miguel fidget and the shields around EZ fluctuated but held. His guide was anxious but focused, an occasional shiver transmitted through their linked hands.

When he’d been to the Los Olividados camp at night, there’d been several sentries posted but they had hung back near the light which killed their night vision. Taking the dirt road that led back into the desert from the main road they’d been on, EZ debated how he’d be able to get the lay of the land. There’d been a high point about half a mile away. He’d have to climb a bit but he should be able to use his senses and get an idea of what they’d be dealing with. If the camp had moved then he was going to insist on waiting for nightfall and he’d be able to detect the sentries before he got too close.

The rock formation had a small canyon off it and EZ pulled the truck off the road until it was hidden from the road. There was no way for him to get rid of the tracks but hopefully they’d be lucky and nobody would notice. Silencing the engine, he looked at Miguel who was watching him, eyes dark and serious. “You ready?”

Miguel nodded, licking his lips but still looking nervous but determined. “I am... I’m as ready as I’m going to be.”

Grabbing the pack, EZ exited the vehicle and waited for Miguel to join him before they began to make their way up the rock face. It wasn’t a straight up vertical climb but it was steep and in some places they dropped to their hands to get more traction before getting a vantage point that EZ felt would be a good one. Reaching down, he held his hand out for Miguel who had let him take the lead. The firm grasp as Miguel took his hand and the feeling of trust between them as he hauled his guide up into his perch... EZ didn’t resist his impulse and pulled Miguel to rest against him, mouths meeting in a gentle, reassuring kiss.

Miguel melted against him, breaking just to take a deep breath and then was back to kissing EZ. “I’ve got you,” he said against Miguel’s mouth as they shared breath, foreheads touching. “I’ve got you. We’ll have him soon.”

His guide shuddered in his grip, a shiver raking down his limbs and a few tears escaping his eyes which EZ wiped away before touching their lips together for one more tender kiss, fingers cupping Miguel’s jaw. He felt the change in Miguel as something settled within him and the worry eased. When he opened his eyes, Miguel had found his calm and the bond was full of strength and purpose.

Leaning into EZ’s touch, Miguel let his eyes slide closed and the deep breath he took changed something even as he leaned into EZ’s hand to rub his bearded cheek against it. Miguel’s presence was sharper, colder, and focused. The lines of worry on his face smoothed out as if they’d never been there. When he opened his eyes, he pulled back and but the tie between them strengthened and the shields around them flexed. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Okay,” EZ said, shifting his weight around to find the most comfortable position to sit in. “I’m going to start with hearing and piggy back my sight... I’ve tried this before but zoned without a guide.”

That got a harsh chuckle. “You never had me before. I am here for you.”Miguel’s gaze had a sharp edge that reminded him of the wolf in his dreams the night before.

Settling further, EZ closed his eyes and took a few breaths, aware that the touch on his forearm was a better anchor than anything else he’d ever tried and he hadn’t even ratcheted up yet. In through the nose and out through the mouth like Raul had taught him, he allowed his hearing to heighten.

The first thing his hearing latched onto automatically was Miguel.The sound of each steady breath that was slightly quick from the exertion of the climb, the sound of his heartbeat that was slowing as he focused on EZ. Using Miguel as a baseline, he turned his auditory input up and started to expand the distance like radar, thinking of the algorithms of wave forms he’d played with when bored in Stockton as a way to avoid a zone. Raul had found him beyond odd when he’d described what he used but the old sentinel had, at the end, shrugged and told him to use whatever worked for him. 

Further away from them, he listened to the birds flying overhead. There was the kik-kik-kik of a Cooper’s hawk that was riding the wind towards where he needed to go so he followed the sound of the bird and listened to the echos. The sound of insects in the afternoon heat, their chirping changing depending on the local temperature effect on the vibration of their wings. Wind passing through the dry brush rattling it with the occasional sound of a small animal that he identified as a ground squirrel that was on the run from a fox, making a racket as it tried to escape the predator.He continued to follow the hawk and he could hear the low murmur of the encampment belonging to Los Olividados.Young children spoke in spanish, arguing about chores around the campsite. He didn’t hear Adelita but he heard an adult man scolding someone about their responsibilities and not letting him get his work done.

Systematically, he tagged each occupant of the camp by heartbeat to allow him to track their movements. The cacophony of sounds was confusing slightly but each rhythm and speed was slightly different and he just labeled them alphabetically to keep it simple.He knew that infants had faster heart rates than older children and he could easily discern the younger child members of Los Olividados from the older teenagers and adults of which there were five in the camp. There were twelve other children... and one infant—Cristóbal.Cristóbal was on the far side of the camp from them and fussing slightly, the unhappy cry making EZ growl before he cut it off at Miguel’s spike of worry, sending reassurance mentally to his guide and the worry fading slightly.

Listening to Cristóbal‘s heart rate, it was steady but quick like it had been previously. EZ had made a special examination of the infant when he’d seen him last and he was sure that it was Cristóbal he was hearing. The snuffling sounds he was making and the annoyed comment of his caretaker indicating that he needed to be changed which was making the baby unhappy. Opening his eyes, EZ could see the netting and tent blocking his way to seeing Cristóbal,Adjusting slightly and pulling back, he could see the encampment was still set up similarly to when he’d visited. Several vehicles were off to one side and the children mostly were playing in the brush. 

No Adelita from what he could tell and, thank god, no Angel either.

EZ relayed this information to Miguel, describing the encampment and it’s occupants before telling him that Cristóbal was present and well.Miguel’s emotional flare of hope and pride fed the shields around them and EZ continued to watch the encampment. They didn’t move from their perch as the afternoon advanced and EZ observed the occupants. The children and one of the adults were now making dinner and the play activities were winding down. Another car had come from town and two adults brought supplies including fresh milk and a few supplies that wouldn’t do well without refrigeration.

Before the light began to fall, EZ began to pull back his senses from the encampment other than his hearing which still had the occupants tagged. Opening his eyes, he could see the sun was beginning to set, maybe a half hour until. Miguel was warm at his side despite the chill of the rock shadow they were sitting in. “We need to climb down while there’s still light.”

“That’s a good point,” Miguel agreed, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “We should wait until dark though to take Cristóbal.”

“I agree. The majority of the kids will go to sleep in a few hours. It will give us time to work our way around to the other side of the camp.” Making their way quickly down the slope, EZ led Miguel the far way around the camp, away from the road. In the falling light and with the majority of the camp occupants preoccupied with their dinner they made good time covering the distance but staying away enough to not alert anyone,. Miguel had handed him a granola bar and bottle of water which EZ ate as he walked, keeping his senses alert for any danger like a snake or spot for one of them to twist an ankle or a cactus with nasty spines.

They walked in silence but it was companionable. EZ felt the occasional emotional tug from Miguel when he needed to slow down in the fading light and he helped his guide traverse the scrub brush safely. Circling around, there was a natural blind of a dead tree that had accumulated tumbleweed around it in a dense tangle behind where the tent had been set up and just far enough away that they could whisper to each other without fear of being overheard.

The sun set and the meal was being served at the tables towards the camp entrance near the road. Few of them remained on the side of the camp near the tent.Setting the pack down, EZ dusted off a bit of rock and sat down before pulling Miguel down to sit between his legs to wait. Putting his arms around his guide with his chin resting on his shoulder put Miguel’s ear right next to his mouth. “Sit and wait. They’ll be asleep soon.”

Miguel’s response was to fidget until he was comfortable, relaxing into EZ and letting this head rest on his shoulder. The guide’s eyes were languid, lids barely open beneath the thick eyelashes and EZ could feel Miguel reaching for Cristóbal with his own abilities. The shudder that shook him as he connected with his son was telling and the low sob was not a surprise to EZ. The shields that EZ had become accustomed to rapidly shifted and he could feel when Miguel included Cristóbal in them, the slight change in how the shields felt was different but still solid. Miguel began speaking in a low tone, calling to his son so softly that without his enhanced senses EZ wouldn’t have been able to pick it up even with him holding Miguel.

“... Cristóbal mi hijo.... mi tesoro... “ the endearments dripped off Miguel’s tongue, making EZ nuzzle and pull him in tighter to his own body. Cristóbal quieted and there were a few coos as the boy settled, comforted by his father and he refused any more of the bottle his minder had been trying to feed him.

The girl who’d been in charge of watching Cristóbal told the older man that was working on a computer that she was done feeding the baby and that she was going to go eat herself. The man let out a distracted grunt and waved her off to go join the others and she put Cristóbal in a woven basket that was functioning as his baby bed before setting the bottle next to it and leaving Cristóbal behind.Miguel made a choking noise at his son being ignored but he didn’t try to leave EZ’s embrace, hands tightening down where they rested on EZ’s.

“Try to soothe him to sleep,” EZ whispered into his guide’s ear. If Cristóbal was asleep the man was less likely to pay attention to him.

Miguel nodded and shifted in EZ’s grip slightly, pushing back more into EZ for support. The soft, barely audible lullaby that he sung was familiar to EZ as his own mother had sung it to him and Angel when they were little. _“Duérmete mi niño que tengo que hacer...”_ Miguel had a nice, even voice and EZ felt the pushed feeling of sleepiness as Miguel pushed it towards Cristóbal. Listening, he could hear the gentle coo as Cristóbal settled with a small hiccup from having fed, breathing easing closer to sleep and his little arms gave a stretch and a kick of his legs as the child settled. The soft, sleepy meep as he fell asleep was adorable and EZ found himself humming along as Miguel finished the third repetition of the lullaby.

An hour passed and it seemed to stretch on forever. The sounds of the night were subdued around them but there had been the howl of a pair of what EZ would swear were wolves calling to each other even though he knew there were no more wolves in Southern California. Miguel stirred in his grip. “I’m going to nudge them towards bedtime like I did with Cristóbal,” he said as he nuzzled into EZ’s neck, a soft kiss pressed over the claim mark. “Keep me grounded.”

Not sure what to do, EZ just held Miguel. He could feel something was happening but it wasn’t him doing it. The occasional tug he associated with his guide happened intermittently and with his hearing still turned up he could hear the voices talking within the camp starting to yawn. The man close to Cristóbal stretched in his seat, arms pushed skyward as he paused in his typing and clicking, a deep yawn and sigh loud in the air before he rubbed his face. EZ watched, waiting to see if he would make any move towards Cristóbal but he didn’t.

The man resumed typing but it was much slower, pauses occurring between keystrokes and clicks of the mouse. The folding chair creaked as the man shifted. One of the women called for the children to start getting ready for bed. The other tents and campers suddenly were full of activity as children began readying for bed, dispersing. Miguel shifted within his grip and there was pressure in the air, a push almost.

Ten minutes later, almost the entire camp was settling down to bed. Four sentries had been posted, all but one of them watching from the road. Another fifteen and the camp was silent. The man who’d been working on the computer was asleep, slumped in his chair with a snore escaping his mouth every so often. The sentries were focused outward from camp, not within it. EZ gave Miguel a squeeze and his eyes opened, seeking out EZ’s. “Now?”

EZ nodded. “Stay here. Get ready to run if need be.”

Standing, EZ kept the pack on his back and slowly picked his way towards the tent. The man’s breathing was deep and slow, heartbeat decreased from his wakeful state. Stepping into the lit area, EZ kept tabs on the sentries but they were not paying any attention his way.

Three large steps and he was at the man’s side. There was a small notebook next to the man that had a list of numbers and letters with the top labeled passwords and the domain names in the next column that listed websites—several of which were banking related. EZ slid the notebook into his back pocket then quickly detached the power cord and mouse from the laptop before closing it carefully so it didn’t make noise. Taking off his backpack, he put the laptop in it and closed the drawstring before turning to Cristóbal‘s basket which was at the man’s feet.

Crouching, He let his fingers skim over the soft skin of the small fist that was holding onto the blanket. Cristóbal yawned, releasing the blanket and limbs curling as the hand was brought to his cheek. EZ slipped his hands underneath his cub and lifted, curling him into his chest with one arm before rearranging the blanket so it wasn’t immediately obvious that there wasn’t a child under it and nudging it further under the folding table desk.

Not moving, he rechecked that nothing had changed.It hadn’t so he went back the way he’d come. Miguel was on his feet, shoulders rigidly held and his eyes zeroed on the bundle in EZ’s hands. “Cristóbal...” was the soft call and he held out his hands for his son.

EZ crowded into Miguel, allowing him to take Cristóbal from his arms. Miguel let out a soft breath and leaned down to touch his mouth in a soft kiss to Cristóbal‘s forehead, a soft snuffle escaping their cub at the touch of his father’s lips but not waking. Miguel cuddled into his son, pulling his coat to go around Cristóbal, sheltering him from the chill of the night and cupping the soft curl covered head with one hand so it rested over his heart,“Lead us?” He asked of EZ, looking up at him. Miguel’s eyes gleamed in the moonlight and EZ felt the bond warm and pulse between them. He’d pleased Miguel with the return of their cub.

“Follow me,” EZ whispered, resisting the urge to stay and bask in his guide’s approval.

The journey retracing their steps, circling around the camp out of easy sight seemed to take longer the second time and it wasn’t just because of the poor visibility. EZ found himself being extra careful, not wanting Miguel to stumble with Cristóbal in his arms.They were almost back to the truck when he heard stirring at the camp. “Miguel,” he warned as he cast his hearing back where they’d come from, stopping only a few hundred yards away from the vehicle.

The sentries had noticed the man asleep at his makeshift desk and awoken him. The theft of the computer had been noted along with the notebook. More of the camp was being awoken and ordered to search.

Then Cristóbal‘s absence was noted and the noise grew. Turning to look at Miguel, EZ spoke quickly. “They’ve noticed.”

“Is it better to be in the truck?” Miguel asked, hiking Cristóbal higher on his chest and pulling the coat tighter.

“Maybe. Get in.” EZ and Miguel made for the truck and were very careful to make no noise getting in. The sound of one of the cars starting at the camp was loud in EZ’s ears but he was sure that Miguel couldn’t hear it. The wolves howled again and he could hear shouts in the camp of fear.There were wolves in the camp.

Turning the key in the ignition, he started his own engine and pulled out of where they’d been hidden, driving normal as he pulled onto the main road. Miguel slumped in the passenger seat, Cristóbal asleep in his arms since they had no car seat. They were several miles away before he flicked the headlights on and only breathed easily when they passed the outskirts of the town without pursuit.

***

They quickly made their way back to the factory, left the vehicle in it’s usual spot and climbed back into the tunnels with some passing back and forth of the kid on the ladder. The trip under the border went by without any excitement other than Miguel making them pause briefly so he could readjust his hold on their cub who somehow managed to sleep through all the excitement and movement.

Mounting the stairs and stepping into the house, EZ felt his shoulders relax. They were back on American soil and had left Los Olividados behind.

His relaxation was short lived when he heard the squeak of springs as they adjusted under someone’s weight. Head snapping up, he inhaled deeply and recognized the scent even as he moved in front of Miguel. “Bishop?” He called out, curious why the Mayan was here.

“Come our EZ,” was the command from the club president from the living room.

Miguel hadn’t said anything but he looked at EZ, eyebrow raised as he shifted Cristóbal in his grip. The feeling though the bond said that Miguel would follow EZ’s lead at least for the moment.

EZ gestured for Miguel to stay put. Shaking out his shoulders, he left the utility room and walked down the small hallway to the living room. Bishop was seated in the sole armchair, a cigarette lit. There were several cigarettes already in the ashtray that were fresh so he’d been waiting a while but he’d cracked the window so it wasn’t too smokey in the room. One leg was thrown over the other and his foot tapped slightly as he looked EZ up and down making EZ feel more nervous than he should. He hadn’t done anything wrong. “What’s up?” EZ asked.

Bishop tilted his head as he took a drag off his cigarette then blew the smoke out. “You haven’t been answering your phone.”

EZ made a show of patting his pockets knowing that they’d both left their cell phones turned off in the car and taken a burner only. “Shit.I don’t know where I left it,” he confessed. “I’m sorry. Were you looking for me?”

Bishop stared, the smoke from his still lit cigarette making EZ’s sinuses burn as a sentinel but he ignored it. “When you didn’t show up at the club yesterday when you were supposed to it was noticed. Then you didn’t show today.”

Wincing, EZ scratched the back of his head. “I’m sorry. I got caught up in—“ before he could think of a plausible lie there was a sniffle followed by the start of Cristóbal crying. To EZ’s hearing he could hear Miguel trying to shush the crying infant but it was no use.

Bishop’s dark eyes widened, flickering between the utility room and EZ before scowling at his prospect. “Whoever is in there get out here,” he snapped which just made Cristóbal cry louder..

The questioning tug on their bond told him Miguel was asking what he wanted and EZ mentally tugged back, trying to express in emotion that they might as well come clean to the club president. Bishop was a fair boss and EZ actually liked him even if Miguel didn’t always see eye to eye with el presidente.

Miguel came out of the utility room, bouncing Cristóbal slightly as the child cried. “He’s hungry,” Miguel informed EZ as he entered, holding out his free hand for the backpack that EZ was still carrying. EZ could also smell that Cristóbal needed a diaper change but doubted the other men could tell.

Moving to assist his guide, EZ commented lowly that Cristóbal needed a change before moving to the open kitchen where there was a microwave. Putting the pack on the counter he removed the bottle with the measured formula in it that Miguel had prepared and added water from another before spinning the cap back on and shaking it to mix. Miguel had taken the pack from him and pulled out the wipes and a clean diaper, using the blanket to protect Cristóbal as he laid him on his backon the countertop.

EZ eyed Bishop as they both worked, him to heat up the bottle and Miguel changed Cristóbal.Bishop had stood and was currently standing at the edge of the linoleum and carpet that marked the boundary between the living room and kitchen. The older man was staring at them in disbelief as they moved around each other to take care of Cristóbal.

When the microwave beeped, EZ removed the bottle and tested it on his wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then passed it over to Miguel who was wrapping his son in the blanket they’d brought before cradling him in his right arm to bring the bottle to the hungry child’s lips. The eager suck along with the vague ‘hungry’ sense that skittered along the shields around them told EZ that Miguel’s assessment had been correct.He belatedly thought about how he’d known how to prepare the bottle even though he’d never done so before... but the amusement he felt from Miguel stopped it.

“Prospect,” was the warning growl that he better explain himself, pulling his attention back to Bishop.

Opening his mouth to try and explain, he was cut off by Miguel. “I asked him for his help as a sentinel.To find Cristóbal.”

Bishop’s assessing glare transferred to Miguel where he stood, one hip propped casually against the counter as he fed Cristóbal. Miguel appeared unconcerned, mostly focused on his hungry son as he clutched at the bottle Miguel held at just the right angle for feeding. “Why?”

“I had a tip of where Los Olividados might be.” Miguel’s tone was matter of fact, almost bored as he answered Bishop’s question. “Since he’s your prospect he’s unlikely to be your leak...and I wanted to make sure I got my son back without having my people’s movements followed given our last attempt.A sentinel willing to go on a hunt? That’s what I needed.”

It sounded just reasonable enough that if Bishop wasn’t a paranoid bastard—which he was—he might have bought it. However, Bishop was observant. “You needed a sentinel.... “ he started, eyes slipping to EZ again before moving back to Miguel. “Your sentinel I’m guessing.”

Miguel had a small smile on his face and the pleasurable spike of pride at Bishop’s recognition of their bond was felt by EZ and he reflected it back at his guide.Miguel responded for both of them. “You’d be correct. He’s mine.” 

The finality and possessiveness at the last word was loaded and Bishop obviously got it, pulling back slightly and his brow furrowing. “This is an interesting development.”

“It is,” Miguel agreed unconcerned. “But it won’t cause problems between us.”

“When did this happen?” Bishop was suspicious still, trying to watch both of them at the same time. “It has to be a recent thing.”

“Yesterday,” EZ admitted, blushing slightly and dropping his gaze.Bishop was an authority/father figure in his life and his inner sentinel was conflicted about pleasing him.“Just yesterday.”

Bishop didn’t immediately reply, looking first at EZ then at Miguel before looking at the hungry infant who was steadily working his way through the bottle. When Miguel had made the connection earlier it had interrupted what was usually a fairy sizable meal for the infant and he was needing his usual amount of calories—hence the vigorous sucking.“And you have your son back,” Bishop finally stated, crossing his arms across his chest. “That is good.”

Miguel nodded in ascent, his fingers lightly petting Cristóbal‘s fine baby curls. “Yes.It is getting late and my son needs to get back home.I will call tomorrow to set up a meeting and we can discuss this further. In the meantime...” Miguel paused and his gaze was glacial, the room chilling slightly making Bishop visibly shiver. “I would appreciate your discretion.”

Bishop seemed to correctly read Miguel. “Tomorrow.”

“Yes,” EZ agreed easily. “No offense but you’re intruding and... well... “

Bishop’s eyebrows raised and his expression relaxed, eyes lit with humor. “I suppose I should say congratulations then on your bonding.”

“Thanks,” EZ rushed out, moving to start bodily pressing Bishop to give them space. Now that the most urgent part of the discussion had been had he was starting to feel unsettled, wanting Bishop away from Miguel and their cub.Maybe in a few days it’d be better....

Raising his hands in surrender to show he wasn’t going to do anything, Bishop took his leave. “Tomorrow Galindo.”His parting shot as he left though was addressed to EZ and made him swear silently to himself.“EZ you better call and speak to your brother. He’s been tearing things apart looking for you.”

***

_VI.Miguel_

Holding his son in his hands, cradling him to his chest, was both exhausting and invigorating. The stress of not knowing where Cristóbal was and if he was hungry....if he was safe...in some ways Miguel felt like he’d lived years worth of stress in the two weeks since he’d last held him at that dinner Emily had arranged as a date night, handing him off to a nanny so they’d had their meal alone together. The blows had kept coming after that and the sense of reprieve and release was profound when he’d connected his shields to surround his son even before he’d held him again, delivered by his sentinel.The worry had worn at him and releasing it left him fatigued but ready to keep up with EZ.

Singing Cristóbal to sleep like he often did when awoken in the night by his son’s calls had been cathartic and miserable, separated by only fifty or so feet. So close but so far, unable to physically hold his tesoro cradled skin to skin as he often did.He’d always taken the nighttime feedings since Emily had stopped breastfeeding at eight weeks and they’d switched to formula. Emily had struggled with getting Cristóbal to nurse and had not had enough milk for his son’s appetite and they’d made the switch reluctantly.At the time he’d been frustrated by Emily, but he’d soon realized that it had meant he could have private father-son time with Cristóbal and it had become one of his favorite moments of the day with his tesoro—to the point where he was already fearing the nights when Cristóbal would sleep the entire night through without their private moments.

The simple, young affectionate love that his son radiated at recognizing him had made a few tears escape his face and he knew he hadn’t totally hidden them from EZ.The grounding force of the sentinel had allowed him to cradle the mental bond, cherish it, gain strength from the knowledge that his son had been found.When EZ had handed Cristóbal to him, he renewed the silent promise he’d made when his tesoro had been born—he’d do anything for him and Cristóbal would be loved. Holding Cristóbal was like holding a piece of the sun, brilliant, blinding and so full of love projected at his father that Miguel could only clutch his son to him, relying on EZ to get them out.

His anxiety had spiked again when for a moment he’d feared they’d been found just as they reached the truck but he’d sagged in relief once they were on the road, gently running his finger’s through Cristóbal‘s curls as his son snuffled into the borrowed t-shirt. Pulling the leather jacketmore firmly around the small body to shield him from the cool of the night, he had reached again for EZ’s hand and let his emotions flow into the shields he maintained around the three of them in the cab of the truck.

Through the factory and down the ladder, he’d had to briefly hand Cristóbal down to EZ so he could climb down himself and it was one of the hardest things he’d ever done to hand over Cristóbal—but it’d been okay because it was EZ. Jumping down the last few rungs, Miguel had held his arms out for Cristóbal and he’d been given back by EZ who had given Cristóbal‘s head a brief caress as he handed him back. 

How the fuck had he gotten so lucky to have EZ as his sentinel?

The sense of pride in his sentinel was simmering and when they’d started climbing the stairs he breathed a sigh of relief. They were safe. Almost home. He sent a pulse of awareness through the tie that bound them sentinel and guide, softly sighing into Cristóbal‘s curls.

And then he’d sensed another presence—Bishop—just as EZ heard him. The spike of annoyance, of anger, of fear was shared between them. The look EZ gave him communicated a whole conversation as he stepped out to meet the Mayan leader.

Miguel was so focused on Bishop and his projected neutral curiosity that he missed the first signs that Cristóbal was waking until he gave a snuffled cry, scrunching up his nose and beating tiny fists against his chest as he stretched in Miguel’s hold, protesting the tightness of his father’s hold. Trying to shush his son, he wasn’t quick enough and the cry was pure hunger as Cristóbal fully awoke.

Shit.

EZ’s and his flare of ‘oh shit’ matched. If it hadn’t been such a serious moment he would have laughed. They really were a matched set. When Bishop called out, ordering him to show himself, he tugged on the bond asking EZ if he should. The responding tug was reassuring and it told him to come out and take care of Cristóbal,

Bishop’s eyebrows climbed up his face upon seeing him holding Cristóbal as he exited the utility room. Cloaking himself in his usual frosty exterior, he cooly informed EZ that Cristóbal was hungry. Bishop watched wide eyed as he came fully into the combined living room and kitchen. “I’ll need the bag. He’s hungry.”

EZ’s nose twitched slightly and he made a face, moving to assist. Setting his tesoro on the counter, Miguel pulled the bag closer while being careful to not let Cristóbal move too close to the edge when he started to kick at being set down.“He needs to be changed,” EZ whispered behind him, his breath teasing the short hairs on the back of Miguel’s neck he was so close, chest brushing against Miguel’s back as his hands touched his arms to give support.

Nodding, he pulled the blanket, wipes and a spare diaper out and laid them next to Cristóbal before pulling the bottle from the side pocket and handing it to EZ.He ignored Bishop as he moved to change Cristóbal’s diaper, tickling his tesoro lightly to get a little giggle and sending a pulse of love that stopped the crying. He was aware of EZ preparing the bottle and it was done about the same time that he wrapped Cristóbal in the blanket and picked him up.The hungry pulse of happy satisfaction was amusing that Cristóbal sent to him as he latched onto the bottle with a loud suck, cheeks puffing in and out with effort.

Resisting the impulse to sing to his son, Miguel glanced up to see what their audience thought. Bishop stood closer but had stopped when his toes hit the old linoleum floor, hands held out like he wasn’t sure what to do with them before he folded them across his chest. EZ moved around him and Cristóbal, putting away the supplies and taking care of the used diaper. Bishop’s head was cocked and he watched silently as EZ moved before his gaze returned to Miguel.

“Prospect,” Bishop said, a slight growl to his voice that made Miguel remember the gun at the base of his spine before he discarded the urge. Bishop sounded like a father scolding his son and his emotional state wasn’t angry enough to pull a gun. Yet.

EZ’s shiver of doubt pushed Miguel into responding. “I asked him for his help as a sentinel.” Bishop’s gaze was piercing and Miguel could see the thoughts processing in his mind. “To find Cristóbal,” he added, bouncing his son lightly so he’d take a breath instead of just continually sucking.

Bishop looked at Cristóbal, frowning, the lines on his face becoming more pronounced. “Why?”

Miguel gave a bullshit answer about a tip, annoyed that Bishop didn’t think that Cristóbal was enough of a reason as his son. Why else would he call for EZ? Why else had he tasked the Mayans with assisting in the locating of his son? In his annoyance he almost forgot about Emily—he wondered if Bishop knew about her. Probably given the way he kept looking at EZ. His sentinel wasn’t doing a good job of hiding their bond, hovering close and ready to jump in-between Miguel and Bishop if he felt his guide was threatened.

It was sweet really.

Mentally shaking himself to focus, he almost missed what Bishop said. “You needed a sentinel... your sentinel I’m guessing.

The vicious sense of possessiveness at hearing someone else acknowledge their bond was strong and he knew his smile had a feral edge to it but he was still happy to hear it acknowledged. “You’d be right. He’s mine,” he tugged hard on the bond, sending a pulse of prideful possessive love towards EZ and making the sentinel sway slightly closer, their hips bumping to physically touch.

Bishop reacted by taking a step backwards but not dropping his gaze from Miguel’s. There was a beat of silence before el presidente found something to say. “This is an interesting development.”

Miguel ducked his head to kiss Cristóbal’s head. “It is but it won’t cause issues,” he dismissed any concern offhandedly, dropping his gaze to his son but focusing on what he was sensing from Bishop with his—guide powers?That sounded pretentious. He’d have to find some other term for them. Bishop didn’t feel hostile—he was fond of EZ was clear but also paternal? Yes. EZ was the young prospect who needed to be guided in Bishop’s eyes. That might be useful in the future.

Bishop cleared his throat. “When did this happen? It must be recent.”

EZ spoke up and drew Bishop’s attention away from Miguel. Watching as the two men talked, Miguel just subtlety tried to push Bishop to be... nicer? More amenable to EZ. It was manipulative but he honestly didn’t give a shit if it helped EZ out. When both men stopped speaking, staring at each other, he pushed for Bishop to leave. “It’s late and my son needs to get home,” he insisted.

Bishop startled slightly, eyes flicking to Cristóbal and he nodded. As he left however, he warned EZ to call his brother and closed the door after himself.

Neither EZ or Miguel immediately spoke but both breathed a sigh of relief. EZ reached out and one hand gently cradled Cristóbal‘s head as he finished his bottle, thumb grazing the curl at the nape. Crowding in, EZ pressed his face against Miguel’s and they just breathed for a moment. Pressing back, Miguel found himself nuzzling EZ’s face back and then found his mouth in a brief touch of lips before touching their foreheads together as EZ’s hands found his hips.

Crisis averted for the moment.

Licking his lips, Miguel didn’t pull back. “We should get going,” he whispered, afraid to break the moment.

“Yeah,” EZ’s reply was just as soft. Neither of them moved and the bond pulsed between them in shared moment of contentment. Recognition of their bond.. had done something and Miguel was disinclined to examine it too closely at the moment—he’d just rather feel.

When they finally moved, it was simultaneously. EZ grabbed the backpack and Miguel bounced Cristóbal lightly to burp him as they exited, turning off the lights. They didn’t need to say anything but when he reached out for EZ’s hand once in the truck he immediately brushed against EZ’s knuckles searching for his.

***

EZ drove them back to his father’s house after a brief discussion. Miguel had briefly called Nestor earlier to have a few supplies dropped off and they were stacked neatly against the back door—baby things including a travel crib and clothing. EZ bristled slightly as he sensed Nestor had been to his home but picked up the two bags after opening the door, ushering Miguel inside, Cristóbal asleep in his arms.

Rather than disturb Cristóbal‘s sleep, Miguel had EZ roll out the sleep mat in the bottom of the travel crib that he’d set up in their bedroom and placed his tesoro down reluctantly. Cristóbal gave a soft sight and settled quickly, slipping into a deeper sleep. Leaning down, he kissed Cristóbal‘s head before stepping out of the room in search of his sentinel.

EZ was in the kitchen, a glass of water in his hand as he stood by the sink, looking out the window at the backyard. Taking a sip, EZ pulled him into his chest and Miguel sighed as he let his head rest on EZ’s chest. “Is he out?” EZ asked, chest rumbling under his ear.

“Yes. He should sleep until morning most likely. He’s tired,” Miguel said with a yawn of his own, winding his arm around EZ’s waist.

“Hmm...” EZ’’s mouth brushed against his hair, hands wandering lower.

Nudging up with his nose, Miguel kissed EZ and pushed him into the counter behind them, hips rolling. “You said you had something planned earlier,” he said when he came up for air before returning to kissing.

“I did,” EZ breathed into his mouth before they were kissing open mouthed, tongues dueling. The bond hummed, tugging them together as the heat reignited. “Miguel,” he called as thy both broke to breath.

“What did you have in mind?” Miguel asked, pulling back just enough to meet his sentinel’s gaze.

EZ breathed in deep. “We’re both sweaty and dusty. Need showers. Then want to make you smell like us again.”

Miguel liked that idea and chuckled at EZ as he rubbed his beard against the stubbled skin of EZ’s cheek. “I could be persuaded...”

“Fuck persuading,” EZ said as he pulled Miguel back in for another kiss. “Wanna shower together? I know it’s not what you’re used to but the water is hot and the pressure is good.”

Miguel didn’t verbally answer but put a bit of distance between their bodies before threading his hand in EZ’s and pulling him towards the bathroom. They were pretty dirty from being out in the desert all day and being clean would be better for his sentinel.

Disrobing once he was in the bathroom, he purposefully put on a show for EZ, shimmying out of the jeans and ignoring the thump as the gun hit the floor—luckily with the safety on. Tugging the t-shirt over his head, EZ pushed him into the sink counter behind him with his arms trapped in the cotton. EZ distracted him by kissing, the sound of his own jeans hitting the floor and then they separated long enough for him to discard his shirt too. They were both hard and Miguel didn’t resist when EZ’s hands cupped under his buttocks to lift him onto the counter, pulling off his boxers at the same time and spreading his thighs.

Wrapping his legs around EZ and locking his ankles to trap him, Miguel discarded his shirt and then encircled his arms around EZ’s neck to pull him close enough to kiss. EZ was still wearing thin cotton boxers and Miguel gave a thrust of his hips to rub them together, still separated by a single layer that was becoming damp rapidly. The groan EZ gave at the motion told Miguel that he liked it so he did it again.

Breaking away, EZ licked his lips. “Shower,” he insisted before diving back in, hands pulling Miguel tighter to him in contradiction to his stated purpose.

Laughing, Miguel reluctantly broke the kiss but didn’t stop the thrust and circle his hips gave instinctually causing EZ’s grip to tighten. He was going to have permanent bruises in the shape of his sentinel’s hands if he wasn’t careful. Touching their foreheads together, Miguel just focused on his shields and the emotions that filled the room around them.

He was happy. So deliriously happy and it bubbled around him and down the bond he shared with EZ . He had his son and his sentinel. He needed nothing else.

Withdrawing and breaking Miguel’s hold, EZ opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, his eyes drinking Miguel in from a few feet away.Aware of his sentinel’s gaze, Miguel spread his thighs and leaned back, arching his back to display himself to EZ’s hungry gaze.It was obvious that sight was one of EZ’s more powerful senses but the way his nostrils flared suggested that he was focusing more than one sense on Miguel which ratcheted up his arousal another notch, feeling precome gather at the tip of his cock and dribble down the shaft.When EZ spoke, he was talking about the water but it was hard for Miguel to focus given the level of hunger flowing between them. “How hot do you like it?”

“Hot,” Miguel answered, appreciating the view of EZ’s muscled back.His sentinel obviously had worked to keep his body in this shape, the smooth flow of toned muscles and bulk of the shoulders that were finely cut above a tapered waist and rounded buttocks that were still sadly covered by his boxers. How much time did EZ spend weight lifting, he mused even as EZ turned and held out his hand to him and he took it, allowing himself to be reeled in.

Miguel took the time to push EZ’s boxers down his hips and let them fall to the floor before they both stepped into the shower. The water was hot as promised and EZ put himself in front to stop Miguel from getting scalded instinctively but the water was just right, not burning hot.

He’d been right on his assessment this morning and it was crowded in the shower but it wasn’t like they needed a lot of space. They weren’t efficient with washing up, stopping to kiss and dunking each other under the spray from the shower head. EZ took the initiative and soaped up his hands, washing every part of Miguel before he returned the favor. Taking his time, Miguel mapped out EZ by touch, the curve of each muscle and bone, the flutter of his heartbeat beneath the ribs and the firmness of flesh underneath his palms as he massaged and stroked. Finding the tattoo over the left bicep, Miguel traced it with his fingers before following the lines of the prominent veins down the strong forearms to the fingertips that tried to briefly catch his.

EZ’s cock stood at attention, bobbing slightly as EZ contracted his muscles with each breath and the effort to hold still and let Miguel explore. Closing his fingers in a tight circle, he jacked his sentinel using soap as lubricant which got him a whine and EZ buried his nose in his neck. The light swipe of tongue over the claiming bite before the nipping of teeth reminded Miguel that his sentinel wasn’t tame.

Moving on, his hands explored the powerful muscles of EZ’s backside. Remembering how much he’d liked the move on himself, he let his fingers trail down the spine and then down EZ’s crease before grasping handfuls of muscle to massage and squeeze which elicited a growl and Miguel found himself pinned against the wall of the shower. Hands pulled from EZ’s ass, he was pulled up and found himself wrapping his legs around EZ’s waist as his arms went around the sculpted shoulders, hips and erections aligning as he was aggressively kissed and devoured despite the slipperiness of the shower which was ignored as EZ pinned him. The slip and slide of skin, tongues dueling and fingers digging into each other as they tried to meld their bodies into one.

The slight slip as EZ’s feet tried to hold them in place had Miguel breaking the kiss with a laugh. “Put me down. We’re going to get killed doing this all wet.”

“But what a way to go,” EZ grinned back at him but carefully let Miguel down from the wall, watching and tracing the rivulets of water with his eyes. “Rinse off,” was the husky order and Miguel moved to do so, presenting his ass to EZ which elicited another bitten off groan and then the heat of his sentinel was back, crowding him under the water and nipping at the bonding mark.

When EZ began jacking him, he relaxed into the wall of muscle behind him and let his head fall back, letting his sentinel know how much pleasure his hands were bringing by vocalizing it in moans and whines. The firm cock behind him nestled in his ass and he ground back as EZ rolled his hips. Reaching the peak, he pulled EZ with him through the bond into release, the hint of teeth at his neck changing to a firm pressure as EZ worried at the mark, increasing the bruising around it and renewing it.

Sagging in EZ’s arms, Miguel just let the euphoria float around them and tightened the emotional shields to pull them together mentally, sharing his happiness, love and sense of contentment down the bond. The spray of water was beginning to lose it’s heat and signaling that the hot water was running out so he reached over and turned it off. The room was overheated and they hadn’t turned on the ceiling fan so it was like a sauna.EZ’s hands still held him close, the sentinel’s face buried in his neck. Covering EZ’s hands, he squeezed them, threading their fingers together over his belly and chest before bringing the left one to his mouth and kissing EZ’s knuckles which got him a tug of teeth at the bond mark EZ was still laving with tongue and teeth.

Coming down off the high of their shared pleasure, Miguel finally made a move to exit the shower. EZ followed him docilely, not wanting to be separated physically. Grabbing the fresh towels that EZ had laid out that morning, Miguel wrapped one around himself before drying EZ off, stroking the skin to remove any excess water. EZ leaned into his touch, eyes half-lidded with banked fires within that watched every moment Miguel made as he brushed his teeth, prompting EZ to do the same. EZ hadn’t shaved in at least a day or two but Miguel didn’t care, too tired and enjoying the sleepy, slightly scruffy, postcoital look on his sentinel.

Leaving the bathroom, Miguel returned to the bedroom and before he could start looking for clothing EZ opened the correct dresser drawer and handed him a fresh pair of boxers and loose sweats to sleep in. “Do you want a shirt,” EZ whispered, his eyes flickering to the crib next to their bed where Cristóbal slept.

“No,” Miguel replied just as softly. It was late and they should sleep. Finding Cristóbal had wiped him out if he was honest. He just wanted to cuddle with EZ and sleep, put off all other problems until tomorrow. 

Dressing, Miguel used the toilet quick before rejoining EZ. EZ had already climbed into bed but left the side closer to Cristóbal open for Miguel. Sliding under the sheets, he pulled EZ to warp around him getting a small chuckle out of his sentinel. Normally, Miguel would probably have protested spooning like this with him as the little spoon but he wanted to be able to open his eyes and see Cristóbal’s crib which was more convenient with EZ at his back and on their sides. Punching the pillow to make it into the right shape to support his neck, he guided EZ’s arm around him to rest on his abdomen and closed his eyes. The feather light touch of EZ’s mouth on the back of his neck was the last thing he noticed before sleep beckoned.

***

Cristóbal‘s cry woke him in the morning too early, barely a hint of dawn visible through the mostly closed drapes. His tesoro was unhappy and the sniffling cries for attention as well as the emotional tug made Miguel yawn as he tried to get loose from EZ’s grip. EZ’s groan and the reflexive tightening of his arms around Miguel told him that the sentinel was protesting being awake just as much as Cristóbal. Freeing himself, Miguel took the two steps to Cristóbal‘s crib and shushed his son, bending over to pick him up.

Cristóbal didn’t immediately stop his cries but he looked up at his father and kicked before ducking his head into Miguel’s pecs. Adjusting his grip on his tesoro, he bounced the child gently in his arms whispering to him automatically in spanish tender endearments and asking why his son was unhappy so early. The feeling that Cristóbal was projecting was a mixture of hunger and irritation at being awake with a side of what Miguel identified as needing to be changed after last night.

Behind him, EZ lay on his belly watching him and their eyes met over Cristóbal’s head. “He needs changed,” EZ informed him, his face scrunching adorably as he shifted his weight. The low thrum of arousal that was always present spiked slightly as EZ watched him but he ignored it due to holding his tesoro.

“The bag still in the kitchen?” he asked EZ.

“Yeah,” EZ sighed and rolled over onto his back, the sheets pulling low but not hiding the fact that his sentinel was hard again which made Miguel’s mouth go dry before Cristóbal began crying anew and louder, diverting his attention.

Leaving in search of diapers, Miguel bounced Cristóbal lightly trying to distract his son. By the time he had a clean diaper on him, EZ had joined him in the kitchen and was blearily looking at his phone as he turned it on and held Miguel’s out to him while waiting for the microwave to heat the milk bottle. Squinting in the light, EZ asked with a yawn, “Do you care if my Pops comes around for breakfast? I’d like him to meet you and Cris.”

“Cris?” Miguel’s brain stuttered at the nickname for his tesoro as he took the phone and put it next to him on the table. Emily had always insisted on using his full name, hating shortening it even as she was aware that it was likely once he was older that his friends wouldn’t call him by it. Miguel himself had been called ‘Mikey’ growing up but now preferred his full spanish name rather than the anglicized American nickname and he hadn’t fought her on it since he’d had no strong preference on how to call their son other than wanting to name him after his deceased brother. However, hearing EZ call his son Cris was... damnit. He liked it far too much to express.

“Yeah Cris?I mean mentally I keep calling him ‘cub’ but I’m pretty sure that’s going to get me some weird looks from non-sentinels,” EZ said embarrassed. “But I can call him Cristóbal if you want.”

“No... I like you calling him Cris,” Miguel confessed as his son quieted somewhat as he put the bottle EZ had automatically prepared into his son’s mouth distracting him. “Cub too but you’re right about maybe not in public.”

“He’s your tesoro right? Your treasure?” EZ teased, pleased with Miguel’s pleasure at the nickname.

“Yes.Emily just calls him Cristóbal always,” he said with a shrug. “Have your father come to breakfast. Just give me a bit of time to get us both cleaned up and ready for company.”

“Okay,” EZ said as he opened the refrigerator to look inside. “Might also ask for him to bring more eggs and bacon... and we’re out of orange juice.”Taking out the orange juice carton, EZ opened it and emptied it in one gulp, straight from the carton making Miguel roll his eyes at him. EZ just smiled and rinsed the carton before placing it in the dish drainer and then picked his phone back up and texted his father.

Eyeing his own phone, Miguel knew that he would be inundated by notices of missed calls, voicemails and text messages as soon as he turned it on. He wasn’t looking forward to it.Nestor would have followed his directions even if he disagreed with them and Miguel wouldn’t put it past him to have eyes on EZ’s home but he’d be as unobtrusive as possible. He’d known Nestor practically forever and his friend was a paranoid soul at the best of times and it hadn’t escaped him that Nestor had been hurt that he wasn’t Miguel’s sentinel.

His thoughts were interrupted by EZ announcing he was going to get cleaned up and that his father would be there in about an hour. “Okay,” Miguel said, noting that Cris was almost through with his bottle and pulled the bag towards him.He’d stashed a few fruit packets but there was also some Cheerios in there that his tesoro loved.

Unsurprisingly, Cris pulled off his bottle with a yell when he saw the fruit pouch in his father’s hands, tiny fists grasping for it. Laughing at his son’s exuberance, he tore open the top and let his tesoro have the mashed fruit and vegetable mix. Miguel had once made the mistake of trying some of it but it’d been a bit weird to his taste but Cris loved the things. The happiness that Cris projected took over the hungry feeling and he let his son eat at his own pace as he stood and went to the sink.

Nestor had brought baby soap as well as a few wash clothes and a towel. Looking around, Miguel found the stopper for the sink and began filling the empty, clean side with water and added a few squirts of soap to make a bubble bath. Cris was a bit dusty and sweaty so a bath was in order before he met his new grandfather. He really should have bathed him last night and EZ was in the bathroom at the moment. Finishing with his fruit mix, his son gave a happy cry as he stripped him down and, after checking the temperature, slowly put his son to sit in the sink. The splashing was immediate as Cris began playing with the bubble filled water that only came up to his belly button. One spectacular splash went directly into Miguel’s face making him sputter and playfully scold his son.

Using one hand to hold his son in the sink, he grabbed an empty cup from the dish drainer and began carefully wetting his son down and avoiding getting water in his his eyes. Once Cris was nice and wet—and Miguel was getting drenched from all the splashing—he soaped up the washcloth and ran it over his son.Rinsing was another adventure and five minutes later Cris was crying at being taken out of the water and wrapped in a dry towel. The alligator tears of frustration made Miguel coo at Cris, telling his tesoro that they’d play in the baby pool later today when they returned home.

The thought of home had his thoughts skittering away from the thought. It wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows returning to his own house and it was... pleasant being so domestic at EZ’s.He felt tired just thinking of dealing with Emily and his mother but he wouldn’t keep Cris from them—they were his family too.

Bouncing Cris on his hip once his diaper was replaced, Miguel debated between the two choices of clothing before deciding on the plain navy blue one piece. He’d just about wrangled Cris into it when EZ’s arms wrapped back around his waist and there was a kiss to his neck. EZ smelled like aftershave and he’d cleaned up the scruff and when he rubbed his cheek against Miguel’s ear it was smooth instead of rough. “The things you do to me,” EZ growled, the bulge in his jeans obvious against Miguel’s rear. “Watching you with Cris... I never thought I’d think having kids was so hot.”

Aware he was blushing bright red, Miguel cleared his throat. “Family... it’s important. So important.”

“It is,” EZ Agreed with a light squeeze of his hands around Miguel’s midsection. “I’ll watch him while you get cleaned up.”

Looking down at himself, he was still partly drenched. He needed to clean up and get dressed, maybe trim his beard a bit. He didn’t want to feel self-conscious about meeting EZ’s father but he knew that when EZ met his mother it was going to be rough and he didn’t want meeting their parents to be all bad. “I’m going to go get cleaned up,” he muttered as he handed off Cris to EZ.“Maybe bring the crib in here?He can play in it while you work.”

***

He’d just returned to the kitchen and caught EZ holding Cris above his head making zooming noises when there was a light knock on the kitchen door.Swooping in a large arc that made Cris giggle and shout in excitement, EZ brought their cub to his hip and bounced him slightly. Cris adored this and continued to giggle, his chubby hands latching onto and twisting in the fabric of the olive colored henley EZ wore. EZ smiled at Miguel standing in the doorway and cocked his head slightly to listen to whoever was outside before his smile gentled, “It’s my Pops.”

“Well let him in,” Miguel told him nervously, pulling at the t-shirt and jeans he’d borrowed that were slightly large but looked okay he’d thought five minutes ago. That was before he was actually standing awkwardly in the kitchen waiting to meet his sentinel’s father. The pulse of love through the bond that EZ sent made him settle though and EZ opened the door with Cris on his hip.

“Pops,” EZ’s voice was warm and slightly excited. “I’d like you to meet Cris.”

The man at the door was carrying a paper grocery bag and seemed surprised to be meeting a child, eyes focused behind the wire framed glasses and mouth slightly open as his eyes crinkled in a smile at Cris below a bushy mustache. EZ’s father was slightly older than Miguel had assumed he’d be, wavy steel grey hair still thick on his head and curled at the nape of his neck with weathered skin that had seen a fair amount of sun over the years. Miguel found himself hesitating, trying to feel EZ’s father out before he could step into the house. The delight the man radiated at seeing EZ carrying Cris though.. it eased his concerns considerably. 

“Hello Cris,” was the gentle greeting as EZ’s father stooped slightly to come to Cris’ level.The dark eyes flicked to EZ and then back to Cris, his tone playful as he used his son’s full name trying to figure out what he should call EZ in regards to Cris.“Your... Ezekiel didn’t mention you when he asked me to come to breakfast.”

Cris, the little charmer, giggled and ducked his head into EZ’s chest, pulling at the shirt to hide slightly in a shy manner. “Cris—can you say hi to your abuelito Felipe?”EZ tried to get Cris to be more welcoming but the child just giggled and tugged harder on his shirt making EZ juggle slightly to get him more comfortably resting higher on his hip.The familiar, spanish name for grandfather was the perfect way to refer to EZ’s father in Miguel’s opinion. “Come in Pops,” EZ said as he moved to the side to let the man into his own home.

Miguel took that as his cue to step forward and reached out to take the bag from Felipe.“Mr. Reyes,” he greeted him, trying to exude confidence. “I’m Miguel... EZ’s guide.”

Felipe Reyes had only taken three steps into his own kitchen and he stared at Miguel, eyes widening briefly in surprise before it was masked. He allowed Miguel to take the bag from his loose fingers but continued staring at him. The emotions he’d felt of pleasant surprise, delight and maybe a bit of nervousness cut off like a door had been slammed in Miguel’s face. Felipe Reyes had just become a complete blank to his guide senses and it startled Miguel. “Miguel,” Felipe said as if trying the name out on his tongue. “Galindo right?”

“Yes,” Miguel set the groceries on the counter, uncertain of what was going on exactly.

EZ, however, seemed to know what was going on and he moved to the stove, turning on the burner so he could start cooking.“He knows Pops.” 

Felipe didn’t drop his gaze from Miguel but inclined his head towards his son. “He knows?”

“He knows about the deal.We’re working on it,” EZ grumbled as he held Cris out to Felipe.

Felipe seemingly automatically took Cris and tucked him expertly into his chest—the mark of having held children often and the smile that he gave to Cris was soft before he looked back to Miguel. Miguel felt frozen in place, hands still holding the grocery bag despite it resting on the counter. “As long as he knows. He’s your guide,” Felipe finally said in a slightly scolding tone to EZ.“I am Felipe Reyes,” he said as his posture relaxed and he cradled Cris expertly, eyes no longer hard as he looked at Miguel. “I had wondered what kind of guide EZ would have.”

“I’m sure I was not what you had in mind,” Miguel deflected. He really wondered what exactly Felipe Reyes thought or knew about him. The blankness he felt from the man was interesting but he wasn’t sure how it was being done and he prodded tentatively to see if he could get any hint of what the man thought but it was like hitting a wall.

“No... but I’m not sure what I was thinking,” Felipe said with a wave of his hand. “I have the feeling the two of you will be... interesting together.” The older man paused and then snorted, a look of amusement shot at EZ. “In a lot of ways you are exactly what I should have expected.”

“Oh?” Miguel asked, distracting himself by opening the bag and taking out the eggs and bacon. EZ took the bacon and opened the wrapped paper to start laying the strips on the pan to cook.

Felipe chuckled, his attention momentarily taken by Cris pulling on his plaid shirt and expression softening. “EZ has never chosen the easy way.He would need a challenge like you.Mijo—turn down that burner or you’ll burn it!”

“Yeah yeah old man,” EZ joked with his father. “Let Miguel and me cook while you familiarize yourself with your new grandson.”

“Hmph. I hope he’s a better cook than you,” Felipe grumbled, making faces at Cris to make him giggle. “At least he brought me a grandson.”

EZ rolled his eyes exaggeratedly while sending a pulse of love down their bond that was the equivalent of a hug. “It’s probably the only grandson you’re getting out of me so...”

Miguel, relaxing at his sentinel’s affection, laughed. “I think I might object to it otherwise.”

Felipe laughed, reaching out to place a hand on Miguel’s shoulder in a familial pat before heading for the table where EZ had put one of Cris’ toys. “One will be enough for now,” he told them as he bounced Cris and started playing with him, ignoring them for a moment in favor of his new grandson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any spanish mistakes made—my understanding of the language is rudimentary at best but I felt that it was worth using to try and give a bit more back history to Miguel’s relationship with Cris. Miguel uses spanish with his son as a way of having something that is for “them” instead of something he shares with Emily even though his wife does speak fluent spanish she doesn’t automatically default to it like he does when speaking with Cris. Speaking spanish was also something his father did with him when he was very little and since he cannot have his father meet Cris he tries to share their family history in this manner. 
> 
> Miguel doesn’t automatically hate his wife but any relationship has it’s bumps in the road and he notes how EZ is much different from his wife and he appreciates it because it’s a new relationship and he’s at the stage where EZ probably won’t do much wrong in his opinion. Emily isn’t the bad guy (per se) in this fic but she isn’t going to be happy very shortly—not only because Miguel hasn’t bothered to let her know he has Cris back. Emily is going to be slightly antagonistic because she’s a threat to the sentinel-guide bond but I’m going to try not to overly bash her. I may or may not write her POV at some point here since I haven’t decided if I’m going to deviate from Miguel/EZ’s POV yet.
> 
> Translation notes:  
> Abuelito: grandfather  
> Tesoro: treasure  
> Mi: my  
> Mijo: son (short for mi hijo)
> 
> Song sung is a spanish lullaby Duérmete niño which is easily found via google. It’s a sweet lullaby and I can totally see Miguel singing it to Cris as a nighttime ritual. 
> 
> Comments are loved and make me write faster, kudos adored! Thanks for reading.


	4. VII-VIII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignacio, now known as Felipe Reyes, meets Mijo’s guide. EZ marks his guide again and meets with Bishop. Spirit animals make an entrance.

_VII. Ignacio (Felipe)_

Mijo had definitely made things more complicated for himself, Ignacio thought to himself. However, giving him his first grandson was... pacifying at least if not an actual pleasant surprise. The young Galindo was a cheerful baby, curious and happy to play peek-a-boo with his new grandfather while EZ and his... Papá cooked breakfast. He’d never thought when he’d approached Kevin for help that he’d have Mijo actually out of prison but EZ was here in his kitchen, slightly burning the bacon from the smell of things. One would think a sentinel with a sharp nose would notice this but the years of taking mandated suppressants made it difficult for Mijo to calibrate and he hadn’t cooked well before prison.

Mijo was, in fact, a terrible cook—luckily it seemed his guide had noticed and shoved him out of the way to handle the bacon as he instructed EZ in prepping the mix for French toast. They moved around each other like they’d been this close for years—anticipating, helping, touching affectionately whenever possible in the casual way that all long term couples developed after years of marriage and life together.The low murmur of conversation was loving but the nonverbal communication between his son and his guide was continuous.It made his heart ache just watching them.

Hm. Maybe José’s son wasn’t like he’d feared given the environment the guide had grown up in. Dita had always been a loose canon but José—or at least the José he’d known—had been determined and a solid man if not for his chosen profession and those he’d surrounded himself with.Before... before he’d left Mexico. The José he’d known had changed a lot and it had been part of the reason he hadn’t looked back at his previous life once he’d crossed the border. Ignacio hadn’t noted that José had spent a lot of time with his son given what he’d heard through rumor and the brief glimpses he’d had into the Galindo family during public events.Physically Miguel resembled his father—the eyes, smile, curve of the cheek andthe way he carried himself in the shoulders, some of his gestures but especially the long fingers and careful manner he held objects like the fork he was using to turn the bacon.What had happened to Miguel’s older brother was... well there had been rumors but Ignacio had unfortunately had a front row seat to the mess—he didn’t need to be told what had happened.He was well aware of why Dita had been determined to have Miguel after Cristóbal had died.

He’d met Marisol soon after the incident and had left Mexico to make a new life, having his own sons shortly after arriving in the US. Dita had never forgiven him but José had been a silent presence, not interfering with Ignacio’s life but also he had not made it more difficult when he’d had the chance either. In Santo Padre it was hard to go without notice since it was such a small town but Ignacio had carved out a simple life as the town butcher and José had let him. In his kinder moments, Ignacio liked to think it was because José still thought fondly of him sometimes. Mostly he just assumed José had shut him out and chosen to never again seek him out or give him any thought—a clean break from a painful past.

José‘s death... he’d not gone to the funeral out of respect for that allowance. José had allowed him to live his life how he chose. He’d still grieved to hear José had died—his good memories of the man were still present in his mind some days but the bad ones also lingered like a foul stench and made him avoid his past life whenever possible.

It seemed he might have his old life and new collide now. Mijo needed to stay on the right path and now Miguel would need to join him on that. Hopefully their bond would help—it was obviously strong given how they danced around each other effortlessly.How they were allowing him near them was... well he’d never heard of a sentinel and guide having shorter than at least three days to bind them together and he’d been hesitant to join them when Mijo had sent him the text this morning asking him to breakfast. Such a short nesting time... they would eventually have to pay for it—to Ignacio’s understanding even if he’d never bonded himself.

Miguel had pulled the bacon off the stove and brought plates and utensils over to set the table, smiling at Cris. “Your son looks a great deal like you,” Ignacio told him, letting the baby chew on the brightly colored polygon toy that he clutched.

The small smile broadened at the mention of his son.“I’ve been told that,” Miguel agreed as he put three plates out and then began dividing up the silverware to place one of each next to the plates. The shape of the nose, chin and ear, the eye color and the dimples when they smiled were the same. It hadn’t escaped Ignacio’s notice that Miguel had been subtly trying to figure out what he thought of him since the moment he’d walked in but he had tightened everything down like he’d been taught—no reason to give things away when EZ’s and Miguel’s bond was so new. There was much to be worked out given EZ’s situation and Ignacio worried. His grandson gave a squawk trying to get his father’s attention and Miguel bent over and kissed his son’s head, hand smoothing the fine curls. “I can’t let EZ cook—he’s never made French toast before,” Miguel confessed. “Are you fine watching him for a bit longer?”

“We’re just getting to know one another,” Ignacio said as he moved Cris to his other arm to put him out of range of the dishes so the child didn’t accidentally knock them to the floor.

Miguel gave him an easy smile and turned back to the stove, plucking the spoon out of Mijo’s hand as he tried to drench a piece of bread to be ready to cook.

They really were made for one another—it was obvious and it worried Ignacio.The old tales.. whenever there was such a strong bond there would also be strong challenges. Whatever higher power or reason there was for such bonds only bestowed such a powerful bond if there were to be significant events where a sentinel and guide would be needed. And would his son have a.. pride around himself? A pack as most of the sentinel’s in the old stories did?His son was not some soldier, some prince. It worried him greatly.

When he’d inquired about EZ’s levels while he’d been at Stockton, he’d gotten a non-answer. EZ himself had avoided the sentinel and guide center as much as possible when he’d gotten out and no formal testing had been done—he’d argued with his son about going off the suppressants but had been pleased when EZ hadn’t immediately gone into repetitive zones.Mijo had worried him so much but the calm way EZ centered himself... had he already known he was waiting on his guide? Ignacio’s sole hope had rested on Kevin’s influence and he’d pushed for EZ to be cooperative, tried to guide him in the right direction and keep him out of trouble. Kevin had run interference more than was normal for an agent working with a confidential informant—Ignacio was sure. The look on Kevin’s face after he’d met with EZ the first time... Ignacio vaguely remembered what it felt like to be around a strong alpha sentinel. Kevin’s face had looked like his own had so long ago.

So he didn’t know if Mijo was alpha potential... but Miguel definitely was. Miguel was much more gifted than his father had been. José had, at lest to his knowledge, never come online as a guide—remaining inactive his entire life and functioning as highly empathetic for a regular human man but capable of the emotional control that seasoned guides had. Miguel was broadcasting a strong signal that any sentinel C class or better would sense quickly but he matched—belonged—with EZ. Ignacio could feel Miguel’s regard for him, that he’d tried to feel for what Ignacio thought of him and he’d blocked it like he’d been taught back when he’d been a _Policia_. Miguel’s attention was powerful and he would likely be able to read anyone unshielded easily.There were guides out there that spent years training to be able to do that and Miguel had only been a guide for days and was doing it instinctually. Given more time to learn how to sharpen his skills and Miguel would be able to go through any shielding someone like Ignacio could try to protect themselves with and they wouldn’t even know he’d done it.Between the two of them—Miguel and Mijo—they’d likely form a strong pride around them. Kevin was likely already halfway there given how much he’d pressured Ignacio in the last several days, wanting to know what Mijo was up to.

Snorting to himself, Ignacio continued to play with his new Nene. The boy was bright, happy and smelled strongly of his Papá and Mijo, their scents overlapping on the young child. Ignacio shuddered slightly—he should not be able to pick this much up. It’d been years but he remembered how he’d imprinted on his wife and sons... he was doing it with his Nene and he wasn’t sorry about it. Miguel hadn’t protested when Mijo had called him abuelito... but he preferred Abue....since it likely hadn’t been claimed yet. He couldn’t see Emily’s family warming to spanish nicknames.

Emily. She was his Nene’s mother. He could see some of her in nene’s features but he resembled his father more. Emily was going to be trouble—just as Dita had been. When EZ had asked him to look into how Emily had been after he’d been in Stockton and the reason why, he’d been surprised. He’d seen Emily around and she had not been showing any signs of pregnancy. When confronted, Emily hadn’t answered him what had happened to the pregnancy by Mijo. Ignacio suspected—but couldn’t prove—that her family had pushed her into an abortion. Emily’s family were social climbers and money was everything. He was sure that they had not objected to Emily marrying Miguel. José had already been dead but Dita would have hated Emily on sight and campaigned actively against her. Emily wasn’t a bad girl but she... he had never thought that she would be with EZ long term. They had not matched.

Sneaking a look at Miguel who was now busy cooking the French toast, Ignacio did not think he matched well with Emily either but he would withhold judgment until he saw them together.

The loud shriek let loose by his Nene said that he was wanting more attention. EZ abandoned Miguel to finish cooking. Nene giggled happily as EZ picked him up out of Ignacio’s arms, the infant head butting directly into EZ’s chest.

Watching Mijo’s arms cradle the child made a warm spark spread through Ignacio’s chest. EZ had cradled the head protectively, putting Cris into the angle of his arm expertly. Ignacio was fairly certain that prior to today the last time that EZ had held a child he’d been twelve and had been press-ganged by a desperate neighbor into watching her toddler while she worked a double.It had been the only time EZ had ever been asked to watch the kids and he’d been terrified of the baby, worried that he’d hurt it. That wasn’t the case with Cris—EZ smiled at him, speaking softly in spanish much like Miguel did. Cris had pulled EZ’s shirt into his mouth and gummed at it happily, little cries and shrieks muffled by the cotton. When EZ lifted Cris higher, the baby cooed happily as EZ sat down with him next to Ignacio. “I know this wasn’t what you had in mind when it came to grandkids...” he softly confessed, his face so gentle as he looked at Cris.

Ignacio waved his hand to stop his son right there. “He is more than enough Mijo. Much more than enough.”

EZ ducked his head, touching his forehead to Cris’. “Oh...I,” he paused, licking his lips before meeting his father’s eyes. “I wondered if you suspected.”

Cocking his head, Ignacio gave a minuscule nod. “You always were more open than your brother.”

EZ’s laugh was a bit forced. “Angel would flip,” he allowed.

“Your brother is... less open to new experiences than you are. Angel is still not online... and maybe he never will be.”Angel was both like and completely unlike EZ. While they both had the gene and had been tested to be more likely to come online as sentinels... Angel had lived a very different life than his younger brother. Different—not better necessarily. Both of his sons had done time in prison—Angel in Chino for assault, EZ for second degree murder. While Ignacio knew that the circumstances surrounding EZ’s charges were difficult and perhaps should have not gotten him such a severe conviction and sentence... the same could not be said for Angel. Angel had done what he was convicted of without any sort of ameliorating circumstances. His eldest son was, in some ways, much more like his younger self and that saddened Ignacio and was why he’d hoped Kevin would steer EZ in the right direction. EZ was more like his mother and it wasn’t surprising that her death and him finding her had forced EZ online. Angel had grieved his mother but he hadn’t been the one to find her dying on the floor of their family butcher shop. “You have told him?” Ignacio asked quietly.

“He’s aware Pops,” EZ’s tone was firm.“I imagine I’m going to have to spend a lot of time with lawyers in the near future.”

Ignacio raised a single eyebrow at his son. “Alright Mijo,” he paused and thought about his next words carefully. “Just don’t forget to speak with your cousin.”

EZ made a face and sighed. “I’ll get in contact with him.”

“Soon,” Ignacio insisted. “He’s come by every day for the last three days. Kevin knows there’s been a powerful bonding in the area and he wanted to check in on you.”

EZ’s eyebrows climbed in surprise. “What?”

Ignacio gave his son an unimpressed look, increasing the loudness of his voice so Miguel would hear too. “Your bonding was felt by others. Kevin is a sentinel and he knows a high level guide was claimed but nobody knows exactly who it was.”

Miguel stepped away from the stove, a look of surprise on his face to match EZ’s. “They know?”

Ignacio rolled his eyes at the two of them and sighed, looking down at his Nene. “Your father’s are idiots,” he told the child which got a snort from EZ and then he looked back at Miguel. “You are newly online. Newly online guides can’t help but project and you’ve projected a lot.Kevin was of the opinion we’re going to have a miniature baby boom in nine months.”

Miguel and EZ blushed scarlet red. “Oh god,” Miguel muttered, shuffling his feet before turning his attention back to the stove long enough to flip the French toast in the pan. EZ just stared at his guide, his face concerned.

“It happens—I am told,” Ignacio told them. “However it does mean that every sentinel and guide within range has been curious about who it was.”

“Did you feel it?” EZ asked, looking embarrassed now. “You never said...”

Ignacio shrugged. “Not really.”It wasn’t a lie. He’d been vaguely aware of it and that had been startling but he’d mostly unconcerned as he’d known it was Mijo and his guide.

Miguel’s eyes narrowed at him and Ignacio felt the intensity of his regard prickle along his nerves. Miguel was getting better moment by moment at reading him even with him trying to shield. “You’re... not online,” he said with a frown. “But you were a sentinel?”

“Was,” Ignacio agreed, trying to lighten his tone and joking slightly, “a long time ago in Mexico.”

Miguel’s head tilted and the prickle increased before it stopped and the guide poked at the food cooking in the pan in front of him. “I’m sorry for the inconvenience we’ve caused,” Miguel’s tone was even, unemotional and EZ was now frowning at his guide—obviously getting something from him despite what he’d verbally said.

EZ stood, passing Nene back to Ignacio who took the giggling infant who was oblivious to the tension amongst the adults. Ignacio watched as his son physically crowded up against Miguel and the guide allowed him, leaning into the touch as he used a spatula to remove several pieces of French toast and add a few more new ones to the pan. EZ was whispering something into Miguel’s ear and Ignacio watched as Miguel’s free hand threaded into EZ’s and squeezed, murmuring something to EZ that got a small smile out of Mijo.

A few minutes later, Miguel put a plate full of French toast on the table with EZ bringing bacon, syrup and a few other bits and bobs. When Miguel went to sit down, EZ pulled him to share a chair with him which made the guide glare at his sentinel. “There’s a perfectly good chair,” he said evenly, eyes flickering to Ignacio.

Ignacio just chuckled as EZ ignored it and began piling food on the plate he brought closer for Miguel. “Eat,” he insisted to his guide.

Miguel rolled his eyes, his stoic look broken and eyes dancing with humor. “Do you mind?” He asked Ignacio. “I see his table manners have room for improvement.”

Ignacio laughed—he’d been worried about them but it was obvious they would roll with any punches. “You two will do fine together,” he told them. “EZ let him eat his breakfast in peace.”

Miguel beamed happily at Ignacio, looking years younger, understanding that he was giving his blessing to their relationship. He didn’t move off of EZ though and just began eating his breakfast quickly before taking Nene from Ignacio so he could eat. Ignacio found himself asking Miguel questions about his life, attempting to get to know the person that his Mijo had bound himself to rather than the stereotype and rumor that Ignacio had thought he’d known. After asking, Ignacio also gave a few small bites to Nene who happily gummed at the small pieces of French toast and quickly became sticky with syrup, hands making sticky prints in Miguel’s shirt.

“I don’t know why I gave him a bath,” Miguel sighed, looking at his offspring and how sticky he’d become.

“It’s a never ending battle at this age,” Ignacio agreed. “When are you taking him home?”Ignacio had listened as EZ told him how they’d found Nene after he’d been taken. It had chilled Ignacio to know that Miguel’s adversaries had tried the same tactics on him as they had on his father. Ignacio didn’t have many resources any more but he knew if something happened to his new grandson he’d do whatever was needed.

Miguel’s expression turned serious as he looked at his son. “I need to let everyone know he’s safe and home.. so today.”

EZ’s arm that was around Miguel’s midsection tightened and he rested his chin on Miguel’s shoulder. “Emily will want to see him.”

“Yes,” Miguel sighed. “She’s already angry with me not being home.”

EZ snorted. “Good luck with that,” he said. Ignacio could recall the few fights EZ and Emily had when they were dating and agreed with his son’s assessment.

“I need to call Nestor,” Miguel said to EZ. “Watch Cris?”

“Yeah,” EZ said, letting Miguel stand and taking the sticky child from him. Miguel stood up and pulled his phone from a back pocket, turning it on and stepping into the next room for some privacy, running his hand through his hair as he went. EZ watched him go, a look of concern on his face and he tilted his head as if listening even though he made eye contact with Ignacio.

Finishing his breakfast, Ignacio watched his son listening in on his guide’s phone conversation. The tightness around the mouth and eyes told him that Mijo was worried. “It will work out some way,” Ignacio told him, trying to be positive.

“Yeah,” EZ agreed. “Doesn’t make me feel good about it Pops.He’s going to have to do some of this alone and I don’t have to like it.”

“Your guide is a strong one,” Ignacio insisted. “And if all else fails there is the Sentinel codes.”

EZ snorted. “They didn’t stop me from getting sent to prison Pops.”

He shrugged. “Something tells me that you’ll have much better lawyers this time around.”

EZ looked half outraged and half amused as Nene gave a happy noise and gummed at the last piece of French toast that EZ held up to him with his fingers. “That, theoretically, shouldn’t make a difference.”

Ignacio looked at his son unimpressed over his glasses that had slipped down his nose. “I didn’t think you were that oblivious to how the world works Mijo.”

EZ shook his head. “I guess not.I’m not just the poor Mexican kid this time around.”

“No,” Ignacio agreed. “No you are not.”

***

When Miguel returned, his face was set in a deep frown and he took Nene from EZ and took him to wash in the sink. EZ watched his guide go, a concerned look on his face as he stood and started to clear the table. Ignacio didn’t intrude, watching the nonverbal communication between sentinel and guide as they cleaned up. Nene distracted them somewhat and Miguel just took off the onesie he’d been put in and washed the infant down to remove most of the stickiness which caused a fit of giggles and shrieks.

The only question EZ asked was, “How long?”

“An hour, maybe less,” Miguel answered.

EZ paused, arms encircling Miguel from behind and a soft kiss was placed at the nape of Miguel’s neck. “Okay.”

The hour passed too quickly in Ignacio’s opinion and soon there was a knock on the back door. EZ nodded when Miguel looked at him and he answered it. The man on the other side wore his hair in a pair of braids that framed each side of his face, sunglasses hiding his eyes. Ignacio got the impression that EZ was uneasy around the other man and it took another moment for Ignacio to make the connection that he was a sentinel—a weak one but still a sentinel. “Nestor,” Miguel greeted the man, letting him in.

Nestor, stepped inside and looked around Ignacio’s modest home, a garment bag held over one shoulder. The way the man categorized everything and made note of things suggested military training and there was an obvious bulge under his jacket that suggested he was armed. “Miguel,” the man greeted his employer before almost glaring challengingly at EZ. “Reyes.”

EZ didn’t say anything but held Nene tighter. Miguel took a deep breath and the look he shot at EZ visibly said to behave himself as he took the garment bag from Nestor. “I’ll be right back,” Miguel muttered, heading for the small laundry room to change. Mijo didn’t wait, just silently handed Nene to Ignacio and followed, shutting the door behind him to leave Ignacio with Nestor.

Nestor eyed Ignacio, a look of uncertainty crossing his face before he smoothed it to abland neutrality. “I take it you’re his father?”

“I am,” Ignacio said, “You are called Nestor?How do you know Miguel?”

A tight, small quirk of the lips into a frown. “Nestor Oceteva. I’ve known Mikey since we were kids.”

Ignacio raised an eyebrow. “Oh.So you know that he and my son have bonded?”

The frown this time was deeper. “Yes,” Nestor admitted, a look of annoyance on his face.

Nether of them said anything else, Nene pulling Ignacio’s attention to him as he chattered excitedly. Ignacio noted that there was something pulling at his attention and out of the corner of his eye he saw Nestor’s eyes widen and breathing pick up.

Ah... it seemed Mijo was making it plain who Miguel’s sentinel was.

In case Nestor forgot.

***

_VIII. EZ_

The phone call, as he listened to it, reminded EZ that they just couldn’t stay in their safe little bubble of a nest forever. Emily needed to know that her son was safe—it would be cruel not to let her know. EZ knew that Miguel had not replied to any of her text messages or voicemails. Miguel and only listened to a few seconds of one of the many voicemails and if they were all that angry sounding EZ didn’t blame him for ignoring the rest.

Bonding was easy. Navigating everything else was going to be a delicate balancing act. EZ felt.. sorry for Emily. She wouldn’t be able to compete with the strength of Miguel’s attachment as a guide with EZ. EZ could tell that Miguel still loved his wife, the mother of his child,but the tie was weak compared to their bond. EZ was trying not to anticipate what Emily’s reaction was going to be to learning that they’d bonded but he knew that she’d be deeply hurt—and a deeply hurt Emily could be pretty vicious if cornered. They’d had a few blown up fights when they’d been dating and she had a way of finding verbal knives that were so much sharper than any physical damage. Emily was a beautiful, smart and courageous woman who, EZ anticipated, probably see him as a threat to her marriage to her husband.

She wasn’t wrong about that.

EZ’s inner sentinel was possessive of his guide, knew that their bond was much stronger and would endure whatever challenge Emily could mount. That Miguel was EZ’s. Full stop. Eventually the bond would crowd out any other romantic entanglements according to the old Mexican. EZ was pretty sure with how deep they already were in each other that Miguel was already pretty close to that. Miguel loved Emily...and he could feel that when her name was mentioned between the two of them.But EZ suspected that they’d never share a bed again—and it wasn’t because EZ was a possessive enough bastard to try and interfere. Miguel would likely have zero interest in that sort of intimacy with his wife. It was why there was no-contest divorces as part of the sentinel codes.

When Miguel had returned to the table, EZ knew that Nestor was on his way to pick him up. They hadn’t discussed exactly what they were going to do but EZ knew that Cris needed to see his mother and Miguel had to make some sort of peace with his family at least temporarily. That didn’t even touch Bishop’s directive that they needed to talk to him today about the changes taking place. Or whatever Miguel had been doing meeting with the mayor. Or his own issues with his cousin and plea deal. He’d almost forgot Angel too—which he didn’t even know where to start with his brother.

So much to do and figure out. When Miguel took Cris to wash up, he could see that Miguel was worried, thoughts racing and anxiety edging down their bond that still was strong and pulsing between them. EZ sent love, support, strength and followed after Miguel, aware his Pops was watching.Crowding against his guide, Miguel took a deep breath and then relaxed into his hold as EZ wrapped his arms around the trim waist. Cris continued to talk with intermittent squeaks as Miguel washed away the stickiness before Miguel gave up and stripped their cub down to his diaper with a sigh.

“How long?” EZ asked, just breathing against Miguel’s neck, scenting him.

“An hour, maybe less,” Miguel quietly confessed. The pulse of regret down the bond saying that Miguel didn’t want to leave their small nest either.

Kissing the nape of Miguel’s neck, EZ just told him that it was okay. Miguel paused in washing Cris to intertwine their fingers and give a strong squeeze. EZ had missed it earlier but Miguel hadn’t replaced his wedding ring back on his fingers and he pulled the hand to his lips, pulling a chaste kiss on the knuckles before releasing the hand so Miguel could keep cleaning up their cub.

EZ busied himself with cleaning up the kitchen, letting Miguel and Ignacio continue to chat and play with Cris. Miguel had asked Nestor to come pick him up and EZ was trying to prepare himself to have another sentinel who wasn’t family in his territory and it was making him want to growl. Miguel knew this and a few concerned looks thrown his way had EZ taking a deep breath and then deciding he could finish clean up later after he threw a load of laundry into the washer. He sat back down at the table and enjoyed a cup of coffee, his hand holding Miguel’s as his Pops and Miguel got to know each other.

His Pops had lost the suspicious look with which he’d initially treated Miguel and seemed curious to know more about EZ’s guide. EZ let the ebb and flow of the conversation roll over him, just letting his senses indulge in this isolated time with his family. Miguel checked with him frequently, the tug on the bond showing awareness and he just sent back how content he was to spend time with his guide and cub. He didn’t want this time to end but it was and he felt like he was memorizing this feeling so he could take it out later and remember it. He didn’t know what tonight or tomorrow would bring and, while it scared him, he needed to be prepared.

EZ heard the approach of the SUV and the high pitched whine of brakes as it parked and then idled outside—it was a foreign brand one, not American made by the sound of it and he identified it as similar to the vehicles he’d followed out into the desert when his life had changed so drastically. The engine quieted and there was only one set of footsteps and a singular heartbeat that approached the door. He didn’t flinch when Nestor knocked but it was close.

Miguel’s eyes met his and he nodded, confirming that it was Nestor. Miguel’s hand reluctantly separated from his to let the other sentinel in. EZ didn’t move, worried if he got too close to the other sentinel he would growl at him and he was currently holding Cris. He heard Miguel greet Nestor and let him in, focusing on Cris in his arms instead of the other sentinel entering his territory. EZ bent over, putting his nose into Cris’ fine curls which made the cub giggle and bat at his face. He inhaled deeply, focusing on the blended scents of Miguel, his Pops and himself that were on the cub’s skin, the fast rapid heartbeat and giggling voice rather than the strong aftershave that the other sentinel wore that made him want to sneeze. His guide knew that he needed a moment so he took the garment bag and excused himself to the laundry room off the kitchen to change.

EZ almost bit his tongue to hold in the growl as Nestor stared at Cris in his arms. Handing off his cub to his Pops with a look that hopefully said not to let Nestor have him, EZ followed Miguel, needing his guide so he didn’t do something to Nestor that they’d both regret. It was his territory damnit, he thought as he shut the laundry room door behind himself.

Miguel turned to look at him, eyes apologetic and hands tangled in the t-shirt he’d just pulled over his head, already down to just boxers. “Miguel, my guide,” EZ whispered harshly and crowded Miguel into the running washing machine, forehead touching Miguel’s and eyes seeking his guide’s.

“EZ,” Miguel whispered back, tone gentle and he discarded the shirt to put his arms around EZ’s shoulders, noses rubbing together in an Eskimo kiss. “EZ,” he repeated before they were kissing open mouthed, hungry and desperate. EZ tugged hard on the bond, needing to reaffirm that Miguel was his and the immediate return of love, adoration, trust and sexual hunger that always seemed to linger was there.

Another sentinel in his territory had set off the need to reaffirm the bond that tore through him like wildfire and he let Miguel feel it. EZ broke the kiss to breathe, pleading with his guide and calling his name. “Need to have every sentinel who meets you know that you’re mine.”

Miguel’s grip on his shoulders tightened, digging into his muscles as his guide examined the feelings he was receiving from EZ. “How. Tell me how,” Miguel asked through the bond and aloud, voice cracking. “I’m yours. All yours just as you are mine.”

EZ thought for a moment and then lifted Miguel up to sit on the washer that vibrated underneath him, pulling so that he was between the guide’s legs. “Let me in Miguel. Need you to smell like us.”

“Always,” Miguel promised their mouths meeting again like magnets. EZ found himself unbuckling his belt, and pushing boxers and jeans down before yanking Miguel even closer. Miguel’s hands hadn’t been idle and the shirt EZ had been wearing was pulled up to allow Miguel to grasp his cock and begin jacking EZ even as he bit at EZ’s lips, ankles locked behind EZ’s thighs. “Lube.. damnit... fuck...” Miguel swore as he continued to pull on EZ’s sex in a too dry pumping motion.

EZ smiled against Miguel’s mouth, hand unclamping from a hip long enough to fumble for his pockets and pulling out the tube he’d stashed there just in case. Miguel’s assault through their bond kicked up another notch and his knees went weak, having to grab for the edge of the washer to steady himself as it rolled through him. He began working his way down Miguel’s body with his mouth, renewing the chain of bruises down his neck and pausing when he got to the chest. Miguel’s back bowed in a perfect arch and he let go of EZ briefly as his teeth found the left nipple, suckling and nipping as hands scrambled to hold his head in place.

The breathless cries of pleasure and his name escaping Miguel’s throat were continuous but quiet underneath the sound of the washer which would mask it to those in the kitchen.EZ’s hands bunched in the soft cotton of the boxers Miguel was wearing and just pulled, tearing them open to gain access. Miguel tried to bring his mouth back up to his lips but he stubbornly just switched nipples as his hands cupped both ass cheeks and tilted to open Miguel up which he did willingly.He did have to release his hold long enough to flail slightly to relocate the tube of lube he’d set down on the washer.

Managing to slick his fingers, he gripped Miguel’s cock and began to stroke which caused Miguel’s body to seize and he flooded their bond with reflected sensations, fingers fluttering around EZ’s skull where they were still holding EZ in place as his mouth worked the flesh under his tongue. The whines escaping Miguel’s throat were needy and the steady chant through the bond was “please.. please... please...”

Continuing his way down his guide’s body, EZ’s tongue delved into the indentation of the belly before nudging Miguel’s erection with his chin and rubbing his face against the side of the shaft, his fingers already delving between the spread legs for their ultimate target—the tight ring of muscle that EZ wanted to be buried deep in forever. Licking the slit, he took the head into his mouth and laved it with his tongue before working his way down the shaft as far as possible with a hum, pulling off long enough to breathe before resuming his efforts. Miguel’s nails were digging into his shoulders as he clawed at them to try and anchor himself, body contracting at the sensations that were zinging back and forth between them.

Miguel grunted at the first finger before trying to move his hips to take more of it while trying to thrust up into EZ’s mouth. The frustrated curse this caused had EZ laughing around a mouthful of cock. The bond between them hummed in shared lust and sensations, the way Miguel contracted every muscle as he added a second and a third, trying to get him to hurry even as he pulled his mouth off it’s prize and went back to kissing, tongues tangling in a tease of what their bodies would be doing shortly. Fingers twisted and stretched as the washer below Miguel started to wind up into the spin phase adding a vibrating shudder. “EZ! EZ! EZ!” Miguel pleaded, sending actual pictures of them fucking mind to mind, showing how deep EZ needed to fucking get right now. The voracious hunger his guide had to have him as deep within as physically possible, to take him in, to be joined to him was staggering and spurred EZ on.

He paused only long enough to slick himself before he was pressing into Miguel, the warm heat that engulfed his cock like a vice even as the long legs wrapped around his hips like a python and squeezed, pulling him in to be seated fully within his guide. Miguel broke the kiss to let out a high pitched whine of pleasure that was almost a sob, arms tight around EZ’s shoulders. “So deep in me,” he gasped against EZ’s ear. “Always so deep... want you to stay... never leave me. My sentinel.” 

The shields around them tightened and the love that Miguel had for him, the inner core that was shared between them rung like a bell, the vibrations of sensation spreading around him making his skin tingle like it was on fire. “Move EZ,” was the command from his guide and he followed it, trying to merge their bodies just like their mental selves. The coordinated roll of his hips and snap of each thrust as he pushed deeper, pressing, wanting, taking as Miguel encouraged him, pulled at him for more and vocally spurred him on.

Miguel was an active participant, mouth clamping down right over the bonding mark but not breaking skin as his fingers dug into EZ’s shoulders, heels pulling their bodies tight as he rocked down onto EZ’s cock and clenched, trying to keep him deep.A mixture of curses in English and Spanish, pleas for more and calls for his sentinel blended into a song that tattooed itself on EZ’s very soul as the spin cycle picked up in force and knocked against his knees. Miguel pushed them both over the precipice as he tightened his emotional hold as EZ hit that spot deep within him that made him crash into orgasm, pulling EZ with him as his hips continued to pump deep, marking Miguel inside as his teeth clamped down over the bonding mark and renewed it.

They both were reluctant to stir from the euphoria that came from renewing the bond, EZ slumped forward, legs and arms shaking as he held himself upright so he wasn’t crushing his guide but still within him. Miguel rested his head on EZ’s shoulder, nose buried in his neck and arms loosely holding EZ but his legs barely held on with his ankles locked. The bond between them was calm, reassured, strong. As the washer finished it’s cycle, it quieted and the only sound in the room was their breathing. “I don’t want to leave,” Miguel confessed, a sadness tainting their connection.

“I don’t want you to go,” EZ whispered back, pressing a kiss to Miguel’s cheek before reluctantly pulling out. Miguel protested wordlessly, his limbs briefly trying to keep EZ close but let him move when EZ tried a second time. Meeting Miguel’s eyes, EZ gently traced the line of his guide’s face, fingers feather soft. 

Catching EZ’s fingers, Miguel kissed them before sitting up with a grimace.“I need another shower,” he grumbled.

Smelling his own semen on Miguel, EZ growled. “No. Want you smelling of me. Reminding your friend out there whose guide you are.”

Miguel huffed, amused. “Nestor is an old friend. He might not be happy I’m yours but he’ll respect it.”

EZ cocked his head. “Forgive me if I don’t trust people with you—you’re a goddamn siren to my senses. Nothing more perfect.”

“You don’t trust me,” Miguel asked, curious the bond between them didn’t suggest he was angry but just genuinely curious what EZ meant and willing to listen to his sentinel.

“I trust you always,” EZ informed him. “I just know what you feel like to a sentinel and... well.. the old stories were if you didn’t take care to protect your guide some other sentinel would try to take them from you. I don’t think you’d let them but I.. “ EZ paused, throat tight. “I don’t want you hurt.”

Miguel’s eyes burned and then he was surging, tugging EZ back to him and possessing him through their locked mouths. The bond roared and EZ’s mind blanked, swept up in the possessive hunger and want, love and desire, so many emotions. The line between EZ’s inner self and Miguel’s twanged like a harp string. The kiss eventually gentled and they didn’t part when it ended, just resting against one another. The flutter of Miguel’s eyelashes against EZ’s cheek had him rubbing his face against his guide’s, enjoying the way that fingers caressed behind his ear.

“I need to let Emily see Cris,” Miguel started, voice soft. “My mother will also want to see her grandson safe and I...” Miguel sighed.“I need to see to my people. Bishop also wanted to speak later today.”

EZ reluctantly opened his eyes after taking another deep whiff of his guide’s warm and satisfied scent, the way their base scents blended together. “I should find my brother. He’s probably at the club.”

Miguel made a noise of agreement. “Do you want to start with Bishop?It may take me a while to see what has happened in my absence. Nestor implied on the phone that I have several things that need my attention... and that computer you took. I should have it looked at.”

EZ grimaced.“Angel... he’s somehow involved with Los Olividados.”

Miguel stiffened. “Your brother...”

“He’s sleeping with their leader—Adelita.Pretty sure he doesn’t really care about their beliefs. He told me that he wants the Mayans to have another source of revenue... but Angel isn’t the best at planning and I suspect she found him first,” EZ explained, aware Miguel was staying calm because he was listening also through the bond.The expression of trust his guide was giving him even as he explained that his major problems had been tied to Angel... it was both surprising and not.

“Why?” Miguel asked. “Because of me?”

“I’m not sure... but if I had to guess? Because Angel doesn’t always understand what Bishop is doing and he doesn’t like how you treat him. And... well my brother can be just as stupid about sex as most men.”

Miguel pulled back, looking directly into EZ’s face. “Treat him how?”

EZ licked his lips. “I don’t... you treated it like any corporate business deal and Angel expects—I think—that it be more like the movies and doesn’t like consequences? I don’t know exactly. My first thought of what he was doing was that it was extremely stupid and it was going to bite us all in the ass.”

“So you helped him?”One eyebrow elevated in question as Miguel thought about what EZ was telling him.

He shrugged struggling to think of how to describe his role as he saw it in all of this before their bonding. “I’m the prospect... and Angel is my sponsor and brother. I’m expected to go along with whatever I’m told. It also works with my plea deal.”

That got him a head tilt and a frown. “You said that the DEA is interested in me.What are they looking for exactly?”

“My cousin expects me to listen and tell him everything—which I don’t do. He’s...” EZ trailed off. “He expects me to do better as a fellow sentinel. That was why he arranged the deal. I’ve been trying to shield Angel so I’ve been holding things back. They know that Cris was taken by Los Olividados but I didn’t tell them that Angel was involved with Adelita or that I’d seen Cris in Mexico. Most of the questions I get are about the size of your organization, delivery routes, follow the money type questions.”

The frown deepened and EZ could feel Miguel turning things over through the bond as he thought about the information. “We need to have a long discussion about all this,” Miguel finally said. “Probably sooner than later but today we need to check in with everyone.” Sighing, Miguel ran his hands through his hair, making it fluff slightly. “Make sure Angel knows that you’re okay but don’t tell him that I’m your guide. Will Bishop keep quiet about us?”

EZ thought about that. “If I ask to talk to him alone he’ll keep it close to his chest. I wouldn’t bet on him not telling Alvarez if he’s around or Taza but they’ll keep it quiet if I ask for at least a little bit because it’s you. You’re the main source of income for the club even if they don’t always like that.”

“So we have a bit of time,” Miguel sighed. “Tell Bishop that I’ll meet with him and you tonight. He can bring Taza or Alvarez if he wants. I’ll leave it up to you how to handle your brother for now but at least warn me if he’s going to do something for Los Olividados. I don’t need more problems with them today.”

“What time?” EZ asked, not disagreeing with his guide’s plan for now.

Miguel growled, resting his forehead on EZ’s shoulder again and taking a few deep breaths. “Late afternoon.Give me your phone.”

EZ pulled up his jeans, fishing his phone out of a pocket and unlocking it before handing it over. Miguel tapped on it and his own phone rang from where it was sitting on top of the garment bag laying on the dryer. “I’ll text you when I’m available.Plan on staying at my house tonight?”

Nodding, EZ fastened his belt and pulled his shirt back down from where it’d been bunched under his armpits, ignoring the drying semen on his abs. “Is Emily going to be okay with that?”

The wry twist to Miguel’s mouth made EZ want to kiss his guide again but he held back to see what Miguel had to say. “She’s... I will have to let her know I’ve bonded at some point. She’s not going to be happy with me.”

EZ cupped Miguel’s face, crowding back into his guide’s space and looking into Miguel’s eyes that were shadowed, too many worries flickering in them. “No she’s not going to be happy that you’ve... that we’re bonded,” EZ started. “But I’m in this for the long run.She’s Cris’ mom... we’ll figure it out.”

Miguel’s hand encircled EZ’s wrist, giving it a light squeeze. “My sentinel,” he whispered before leaning forward for a brush of their lips against one another. “I... she’s my wife but... things have been changing lately. We’ll figure it out.”

EZ didn’t comment on the wife thing, trying to ignore the rush of jealousy that Emily inspired in him. Cris would need his mom in his life and, while EZ had been fond of his ex mostly, the new feelings of jealousy and possessiveness that Miguel raised in regards to her were not unexpected. There was a little voice in the back of his head that viciously sung that Miguel was his now and didn’t want to play nice with Emily even if Miguel still loved her as Cris’ mom. EZ could feel that Miguel still loved Emily when he mentioned her name but there was a lot of complexity surrounding her and EZ had effectively severed any physical attraction Miguel held for her and redirected it through their bond with the bonding heat and he was smugly satisfied about it. “Let me help,” EZ offered as he stepped back to let Miguel off the washer.

Hopping down, Miguel pulled a face as EZ smelled his own semen leaking from his guide. He didn’t resist the urge and took the two scraps of fabric that had been boxers and swiped Miguel mostly clean on his abs and between his legs. Miguel just rolled his eyes at the smug look he threw him, leaning back with his legs splayed for access. “You are disgusting,” he informed EZ but his tone was light.

“You know it,” EZ returned, smiling widely.

Snorting, Miguel turned and pulled the garment bag to him. There was one of his suits in it that appeared to have come from a dry cleaner. The suit was so dark in color it almost appeared black but was actually a dark navy. Shirt, tie, belt, socks, vest, coat and trousers in a monochromatic scheme that made his guide’s skin glow with health. No clean underwear that made EZ’s grin obnoxious to Miguel who ignored him as he pulled on his pants. EZ threaded the belt through the loops as Miguel pulled on the shirt but he calmly let EZ feel him up a bit as he fastened the pants and then did up the buttons, kissing the skin before hiding it behind the smooth dark blue fabric that had a diamond like pattern that was so subtle it could only be picked up by someone with EZ’s gifts. Miguel did pull away to put his socks on but allowed EZ close as he pulled on the vest and buttoned it. Holding the tie, EZ turned Miguel to him and kissed him as he looped the tie around his guide’s neck and attempted to tie it before his hands were batted away by Miguel’s. The collar was high enough to hide most of the markings he’d left but there were a few dark marks on his guide’s skin just below the ear on the left that weren’t quite hidden by his beard or hairline.

Exiting the laundry room, EZ couldn’t help the smug look he threw at Nestor who looked like he’d been sucking on a lemon, the bitter smell of jealousy wafting from him as well as sexual frustration. His Pops held their cub, bouncing him on one knee to distract Cris who immediately noticed his father and called out a string of sounds to get his attention. Miguel went straight for Cris, ignoring Nestor and picked up the cub, muttering to him in spanish so not everyone would hear and answering a question from Pops.

EZ placed himself right in front of Nestor, between him and his guide and cub, posture upright and challenging to the other sentinel that had entered his territory. “Do we have an understanding?” He asked in a low growl, leaning in to intimidate the other sentinel’s personal space.

Nestor’s eyes widened and he took a half step back before he could stop himself, back touching the door. The other sentinel’s scent filled EZ’s nostrils and he took note of the emotions—jealousy, worry, a hint of anger but also protective and a vague hint of his guide on the other sentinel that spoke of long familiarity. Nestor stared back, nostrils flaring like he could make his sense of smell stronger like EZ’s. They squared off against one another like two predators, ignoring the sounds behind them as Miguel briefly spoke with Pops to get his contact information.

Nestor blinked first and tilted his head back and to the side, baring his neck to the more dominant sentinel. EZ crowded closer to him, backing Nestor into the door and put his nose to the pulse point that was rabbiting under his face. Inhaling deeply, he made note of Nestor’s personal sent and memorized it for future reference while listening to his heartbeat. Giving a light growl, he flicked his eyes back to Nestor’s who was staring at him, eyes wide but calmer now. “You will protect him?”

“Y-yes,” Nestor stuttered a bit as he promised EZ, his scent showing that he was being truthful.

“If anything happens to him I will hold you responsible,” EZ promised, threat underlying the growl to his voice.

“Mikey is my friend,” Nestor tried to be firm but there was a slight tremor to his voice. “Mikey is safe with me.”

EZ didn’t move for a full minute before he slowly pulled back, letting Nestor slump slightly against the door. He was aware Miguel with Cris on his hip was standing right behind him and turned his back on Nestor, dismissing him. Cris bubbled happily at him and he took him when Miguel held him out to EZ. “Hey cub.I’ll see you tonight,” he whispered into the curls as Cris snuffled into his shirt, hands fisting in the cotton.

Miguel amusedly huffed at EZ.“Are you happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” EZ leaned forward and brushed his mouth against Miguel’s. Miguel had the backpack from yesterday over one shoulder that had the laptop and notebook. “See you tonight.”

The sigh from his guide and reluctance to part was strong. To give Miguel a moment to gather himself, EZ focused on their cub and cradled him protectively with a light squeeze. Cris was getting tired and would need a morning nap today given how early he’d been up. As EZ thought it, Cris yawned cutely and snuffled into his shirt. Nuzzling the crown of curls, EZ stroked one hand down the small curve of Cris’ back, swaying slightly side to side. “I think he’ll nap good in the car,” EZ whispered to Miguel who was also looking at his son.

“Probably,” Miguel agreed just as softly and held out his arms to take Cris back.

Returning their cub to his guide’s arms, EZ let his hands encircle Miguel’s waist and pulled him to his chest with Cris between them. One last kiss, EZ thought as he leaned forward and was met by Miguel. The kiss was lingering, the bond winding between them in anticipation of parting. Miguel’s hand cradled behind his ear and reluctantly let EZ pull back as the kiss ended. “Tonight,” was the promise.

“Tonight,” EZ agreed, pulling back to let Miguel past as Nestor opened the door. “Tonight,” he repeated, running his hands over his head.

It was unbelievably hard to watch Miguel and Cris walk out that door without him, Nestor shutting it behind himself as he followed them. Ez stared at the closed door, listening as the car doors slammed, Miguel speaking to Cris as he put him in his car seat and the click of seatbelts. When the engine started, EZ found his hands tightening into fists as Nestor shifted out of park and eased the vehicle out into the street.

“Mijo,” his Pops called. “You’ll see them tonight.”

“I know,” EZ said, voice thick. “I... I know.”

***

EZ was restless after Miguel left. He could still point exactly which direction Miguel was in blindfolded and tell his general mood but not having him within arms reach was making him ache. Quickly finishing up cleaning the kitchen mess, he debated if it was too early to head over to the club.Angel wasn’t a morning person but Bishop would likely be around so he might be able to talk to him.His Pops had extracted a promise that he’d talk to Kevin today too—which he had no idea what he’d tell his cousin.

Hopping on his bike, he drove over to the club. There was no point in delaying the inevitable and he should just get it over with. Pulling into the club, he could see that Coco was working on a car on one of the lifts, talking with Chucky. Coco immediately noticed EZ pulling in and waved Chucky off with an oil stained rag before wiping his hands with it and walking towards EZ wagging a finger at him.

Coco got perhaps a dozen paces away when he stopped like he’d hit a wall, eyes goggling at EZ in silence. Shifting the weight of the bike, EZ put down the stand and dismounted. “Coco,” he greeted as he pulled off his helmet.

Coco shut his mouth with a click, his expression incredulous before he got a good look at EZ’s neck and then a sly look replaced it. “She got you good,” Coco crowed at him, approaching and slapping EZ on the back.

“She?” EZ asked, confused.

Coco waved at his neck. “Your guide. Looks like a possessive one and I can feel her imprint all over you. It’s like a big glowing neon sign that say ‘mine—stay away’ to other guides.”

EZ ducked his head, blushing slightly. It was a good thing Coco didn’t have sentinel senses and could see how he’d plastered his own scent on Miguel and how much he smelled of his guide. “Yeah.... well...”

“Say no more. I get it,” Coco said with raised hands. “But Angel is pissed and looking for you.”

“He around?” EZ asked, not scenting his brother had been by recently. He also couldn’t hear his brother’s heartbeat in the clubhouse but could hear several of the other Mayans.

“Nah.”

Coco was about to say more when the door to the clubhouse opened and Bishop wandered out, a cup of coffee in his hand as he leaned against one of the porch pillars. “Prospect,” he called out sternly. “Get your ass in here.”

EZ gave Coco an apologetic look and turned to walk towards Bishop. Coco called after him that he’d let Angel know EZ was here and he waved absently in acknowledgement. Bishop was calm and watched him walk up then gestured inside with his cup. EZ nodded and proceeded the Mayan el presidente inside.Blinking to adjust to the dim morning light filtering in through the blinds, EZ let himself be directed to the club room. Alvarez and Taza were both sitting at the table, cups of coffee and the remains of breakfast in front of them. Taza had the paper and looked up over It’s edges at EZ stoically but Alvarez choked on the coffee he was drinking when he laid eyes on EZ.

“Marcus?” Bishop asked in concern as he shut the door behind him and pushed EZ into a seat before taking his own at the head of the table.

Sputtering, Alvarez stared at EZ. “Well... I guess I know why you’re here,” he said to EZ as he coughed to clear his throat before directing his attention to the president, “You could have fucking warned us.”

Bishop, quirking an eyebrow in amusement, took a deep draw of coffee. “But it would spoil my fun.”

Taza, not sure exactly what the other two were talking about just glared at EZ. “Where have you been Prospect?”

“Oh let off,” Alvarez waved at the VP. “He found his guide....” Alvarez squinted at EZ before surprise took over and he gaped slightly a breathy. “Dios mío,” uttered under his breath.

Taza, sensing that the other two weren’t telling him something glared at them suspiciously. “What?”

Bishop, perhaps knowing that Taza was two seconds away from violence sighed. “Who his guide is more interesting—it’s Miguel Galindo.”

Both of Taza’s eyebrows rose in surprise and he looked at EZ with renewed interest. “Really?”

“Yes,” EZ confirmed, picking at one of the rivets on the table where it joined the leather.“You said you wanted to meet today?” EZ directed at Bishop.

Bishop gestured at the empty spot next to EZ. “I thought you’d bring your guide with.”

“He’s taking his son home,” EZ deflected. “He can meet later today though.”

Alvarez spoke up. “You’re Miguel’s guide... and you bonded when? It has to be recent...” he trailed off, frowning at EZ. “you practically scream ‘claimed sentinel’ but the last time we saw Miguel he wasn’t...”

Taza looked between Bishop and Alvarez, confused. “I thought newly bonded pairs don’t ever separate...”

“They don’t,” EZ said, swallowing hard and trying not to tug on the bond at the mention of it. Miguel was equal parts annoyed and frustrated when he checked on him, a vague sense of deep concentration trickling down the bond. “It’s not exactly fun.”

Alvarez now looked slightly angry. “You let him go back without you?”

EZ flailed slightly, spreading his hands helplessly. “I didn’t let him do anything. We have a lot to do and me trailing along to tell his wife that he’s now a bonded guide would likely just cause trouble and neither of us would get anything done.”

Bishop considered this and gave a slight nod, “Understandable. Did you have a time and place in mind?”

EZ shrugged. “Later this afternoon. Where is up for negotiation but we’d like to keep our bond to a need-to-know basis at the moment.”

Alvarez snorted. “Anyone who knows Miguel and is sensitive is going to know you’re his sentinel.I’m surprised Coco didn’t pick up on it.”

Looking sharply at Alvarez, EZ inhaled through his nose. Not a guide but something close to it. “I’m pretty sure Angel is going to take some persuading to be... more open to my bonding to Miguel.As for Coco... Miguel’s newly online so he might not know what he feels like exactly good enough to make the connection .”

“Well congratulations,” Taza offered sarcastically. “What does this mean for the club?”

EZ licked his lips nervously. “Miguel doesn’t see our business dealings changing significantly—if anything it makes the clubs ties to his business interests stronger which I would think we’d like...”

Bishop and Alvarez shared a look before Bishop spoke. “Stability sounds good... but we’ll still need to discuss it with your guide.” He was apologetic as he continued, “You’re not a full patch member yet which will need to be addressed when it’s proper to.”

“I understand,” EZ agreed. “And so does Miguel. We’re both still adjusting but I don’t see why there should be a change in how the club does business with Miguel’s business.”

Bishop blew out a breath slowly, a wrinkle appearing between his eyes. “It will change things... even if we do not mean for it to. Do you plan on pursuing your patch still?”

That brought EZ up short mentally. Did he still want to be a Mayan? He’d originally pursued it because of his plea deal, thinking he could shelter Angel and the club by only reporting on the cartel business... but his situation had drastically changed. He actually liked all the club members, enjoyed the sense of belonging if not the chores that inevitably got piled on the prospect that were often unpleasant—for example hauling a dead Samoan under the border and displaying him as a warning to Miguel’s and the Mayan’s enemies. He had the impression that Miguel had been changing the business model of the cartel towards more legitimate business and that had been causing some of the strain between the Mayans and his guide... which if true made him happier if it wasn’t illegal both because of his being a sentinel as well as decreasing risk to his guide and the Mayans.

There was no reason that the Mayans couldn’t be involved in legitimate business deals instead of just running drugs.Kevin had told him that the majority of the business the Mayans dealt in was transport and distribution of drugs... with the Santo Padre chapter especially important because of it’s Southern California location and EZ had an easy in with his brother so the deal had been made... and he knew that Miguel was likely already or soon to be talking to a lawyer about how to extract him from that deal.

“I enjoy being with the guys..” he struggled a bit to explain his reasoning but continued, “I like the camaraderie, the connection. Maybe it’s a sentinel thing with wanting to have a pack around myself...but I still want to be a prospect. Whether I get patched in or not is going to be up to the club and I understand if my bonding changes this... but I hope it doesn’t.”

Bishop looked satisfied at his answer as did Taza. Alvarez—El Padrino—looked thoughtful but nodded when EZ’s gaze met his. Clearing his throat, Bishop spoke. “Then we’ll have you continue as our prospect for now but we do need to meet with your guide—today. Talk with your guide and we’ll meet wherever he can be—I’m sure bonding with you has created a lot of upheaval for him to deal with.”

“Thank you for your understanding,” EZ said with a dip of his head.

“I am, however, reassigning myself as your sponsor,” Bishop continued.

“Okaaay....” EZ didn’t object to this necessarily.

“Make sure you tell your brother,” Bishop insisted. “I need to make sure that this works for all of us or we’ll have to part ways.”

“I understand.”The three men made it obvious that EZ was dismissed after a moment and he withdrew from the room, breathing a sigh of relief as he exited the meeting room and closed the door after himself when he was told to.

Which was why he was too distracted to notice Angel immediately.

“EZ!” Was his brother’s shout of greeting that blindsided him as Angel grabbed him around the neck and hauled him outside, past Coco who had a deer-in-the-headlights look when EZ glared at him.

Shit. Angel’s scent which was all things family was also like hot metal—angry and annoyed at his kid brother for disappearing on him. “Angel—“

“Don’t you Angel me!You fucking disappear without a text or call and Pops doesn’t know where you are either! You don’t fucking do that!” 

Angel was building up steam and obviously very unhappy but he kept putting pressure on EZ’s bonding mark and even his brother touching it was making EZ angry in turn. When Angel shook him, he twisted and escaped his brother’s hold, a snarl escaping him as he pulled out of arm’s reach. Between them, a snarling Mexican wolf appeared as if by magic—an actual fucking spirit animal and it was very, very upset with Angel for laying hands on EZ given the loud growl and snarl, the tail held low and the ruff of fur puffed out in aggression to make it look even larger than it was.

Angel actually fell over backwards scrambling to get away from the angry wolf with a yelp. “EZ! Call it fucking off!”

The wolf—and EZ was pretty sure it was Miguel’s not his—gave a vicious sounding bark followed by a snap of the teeth in Angel’s direction that made him pull back further. The low, rumbling growl and the bared razor sharp teeth were still bared in warning so Angel took another two steps back. EZ tried to move around the wolf and it just moved with him to stay between him and Angel who was staring at the spirit animal with a look of terrified wonder. “You have a fucking wolf now?!?”

Digging his fingers into the tan and black ruff, EZ ran his hands in petting motion from the top of the head between the flattened ears to the mid back again and again, speaking lowly in spanish in a calming manner. The standoff continued for another minute, several other people coming to witness it but the wolf’s attention never wavered from Angel even as it’s ears swiveled to track everyone around them. Angel took another step back and the wolf quieted, teeth still bared for a moment before it yawned, stretching it’s front white socked feet out as it’s tail curled up and jaw spread wide to give everyone a glance at how many sharp teeth it had. The wolf then turned to EZ and head butted against his hip before sitting next to him on it’s haunches, head turned into his hands which continued to pet the silky fur between the eyes and ears, eyes closed to slits.

A second wolf popped up with a whine on EZ’s other side, begging for a few pets.

“Two of them?!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/kudos adored and loved. Thanks for reading. I do have a tumblr if you want to know when I’m likely to update/some inspirational/fandom stuff: Satashiiwrites. 
> 
> Translation notes:  
> (Please excuse any spanish errors—my spanish is still fairly rudimentary)
> 
> Nene: little boy, nickname given to children  
> Mijo: short for mi hijo—my son  
> Policía: Police  
> Dio mío: my god  
> El padrino: The Godfather  
> El presidente: the president


	5. IX-X

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> IX: Miguel struggles with his empathic abilities and returns to his home—which maybe isn’t as homelike as it used to be. 
> 
> X: Angel is EZ’s older brother—and he may need to learn more about what it means to be a sentinel with a guide before he makes a mistake.

_IX.Miguel_

Walking out the door without EZ right behind him was another one of the hardest things Miguel had done in his life which all seemed to be happening in close temporal association.He was having to concentrate on Cris’ weight and warmth in his arms in order to continue moving forward instead of turning around and yanking his sentinel along by that damned henley that clung to his chest in ways that reminded Miguel of how much he liked clinging to it. The pull of the stretch in their bond was like a rubber band, tugging him insistently with his mental senses back towards his Sentinel relentlessly as it reminded him how powerful the bond between them was even though it was newly formed. Gritting his teeth, he twisted away when Nestor unthinkingly tried to touch his shoulder, pulling away and almost snarling at one of his closest friends since childhood, his almost-brother.

Another sentinel’s touch was unwanted.

Unneeded.

Unnecessary.

And he would not allow it.

The icy glare and pulse of hostility he pushed at Nestor was instinctive and his long-time friend flinched hard enough to stumble several steps away from where Miguel was baring his teeth at the other man. Cris sniffled in his arms, a sense of question and fear coming from his son at Miguel’s response to a simple touch that several days ago he wouldn’t have even blinked at. Nestor’s eyes were wide, hand held midair like he’d been burned. He stammered as he apologized. “Mikey... I... I’m sorry....”

“Please,” Miguel bit out. “Don’t touch me.”His hand cupped Cris’ curls as his son made a light shriek at his father’s agitation, picking up more than Miguel wanted his son to.He closed his eyes to focus on sending calming thoughts to his son as he kissed the tiny hand that grasped at his mouth, fingers scratching through his beard. Focusing on his tesoro and the small, continuous pleasure of his son’s presence.

Ignore the other sentinel.

Ignore the pull.

The tug.

The longing that already burned like a cold fire in his bones for his sentinel.

Reopening his eyes, Nestor had pulled back after having set the bag he’d picked up in the car.Nestor backed away, giving Miguel space and he appreciated it as he tightly held to the modicum of control he still had. Nodding, he turned his back on Nestor to see that there was the usual car seat for Cris already buckled in on the far side of the car.

Awkwardly climbing into the back seat, Miguel put Cris into his car seat. The latches making him fumble as he tucked Cris in. Nestor took the driver’s seat and turned the engine on, cool air filtering into the warm car in relief but he didn’t pull out until Miguel informed him that Cris was safely buckled in.

The pull worsened as distance between EZ and him increased, making him feel annoyed so he focused on Cris like a lodestone instead of EZ who was his center, ignoring the way his heart skipped a few beats and his breath escaped in a pained exhale. Miguel caught one of Cris’ tiny hands and focused on it, his eyes watching the scenery outside go by as he tried to breathe normally.The neighborhood that EZ’s father lived in was decidedly middle to lower middle class—small houses that rapidly gave way to storefronts and a business district.Recognizing the area, Miguel realized that EZ lived not far from the butcher’s shop—likely within walking distance for a teenaged EZ to walk to after school to help out at.

The thought of EZ working as a teenager with his father made him smile—a scrawnier, less serious version of his sentinel who’d smiled easier, did not have the weight of the world on his shoulders, white apron tied around him when he’d worked at the family store. He’d noticed the family pictures on the walls in the living room and it had included a senior portrait of EZ who’d had longer, floppier hair when the pictures had been taken. There’d also been pictures of him in various sports—soccer, track and swimming from various ages through one with EZ in a Stanford soccer jersey that looked like it had been taken in the stands.

Miguel had mostly appreciated the swimming photos as he’d given Nestor his instructions earlier. There’d been a small trophy and medal below the picture that he’d assumed was EZ’s. His Sentinel had set some record in high school and he tucked the memory away to ask EZ about later.

It took approximately twenty five minutes to drive from EZ’s home to his. As the business district faded away to be replaced by more homes that gradually spread out into several gated communities—the nicest and most expensive of which was where he had lived most of his life. The contrast in how they’d grown up was stark—EZ came from one side of town and he from the other.

At least there were no actual train tracks for them to be from on the opposite sides of.

Earlier when EZ had obliquely referenced his incarceration, Miguel had been frustrated by the admission of taking the offered deal rather than fighting it—there should have been an accommodation or something made for EZ’s situation as a newly online sentinel. However, Miguel wasn’t blind. Ignacio, and by extension his sons, was not a rich man.Ignacio would not have had the funds to pay for the type of legal counsel that Miguel was accustomed to and had likely had to depend on a public defender for EZ. EZ had been the poor Mexican kid and been treated unfairly—an inherent disadvantage because of his family’s resources.

EZ would have everything now if it was up to him.

Everything.

His Sentinel would not be going back to prison nor would Miguel have to do without EZ being present in his life.

Reaching the gate, Nestor waved in greeting to the security guard and the heavy metal barrier parted to allow them through. The winding, terraced drive up to the house was almost a quarter of a mile long and then he was home.

Home.

Such a loaded term when he felt the pull away from here and towards EZ.

Home was no longer a place but had become a person—well two persons if he was being honest as Cris sighed, dozing in his seat. His son loved to sleep on car rides and their current journey had been just long enough for the morning to catch up with the infant.

Cris made a noise of complaint as the car stopped outside the front door and Miguel began to unbuckle him. Cooing to his tesoro, he shushed him when his son immediately buried his face in his shirt and snuffled into the fabric as he lifted his son up and out of his seat. One small fist bunching the cloth and anchoring into his father.Cris closed his eyes and made another loud cooing sigh, trying to get comfortable.

Cris was about ready to nap—he’d be grumpy but the rest of the family would want to see him.

Carefully cradling his son, Miguel slid out the door when Nestor opened it for him. The sudden brightness of the morning making him blink rapidly as he realized he’d left his sunglasses with EZ. The heavy scent of the flowers that spilled from the massive planters on either side of the entryway perfumed the air with jasmine and lavender. Steps echoing on the paving stones, he allowed Nestor to proceed before him so he could open the front door.

Miriam, his housekeeper, was almost to the door when he entered. Her loud gasp and cry of joy made Cris startle and let out a single cry. Miriam had been with his family since he was six—having been his mother’s housekeeper before she’d transitioned to Miguel’s house after he’d gotten married with the insistence from his mother that she didn’t have enough to warrant Miriam’s attentions. He’d been relieved he hadn’t needed to steal her away against his mother’s wishes but he’d long assumed that Miriam would always be around cooking in the kitchen or scolding him for leaving his dirty dishes in the sink.

The stream of excited spanish exclamations and prayers to the Virgin Mary as she gently reached for Cris made Miguel smile even as he tried to soothe his tesoro who was working himself up. “Oh niño!You found him!”

Shushing Cris in a whisper before he could start crying, Miguel bounced his son lightly and allowed him to be seen and touched by the woman he considered his Tesoro’s honorary grandmother. Miriam’s worn hands came out to cup around Cris’ head and she kissed his forehead in a grandmotherly way which made Cris give an excited yell, startling a relieved laugh out of the older woman. “Shh,” Miguel whispered to his son while exchanging a proud smile with Miriam. “Shhh mi tesoro. You’re just home and everyone is excited to see you.”

“Oh!” Miriam was crying now, her hand lightly pressing on Cris’ curls. “Oh niño!”

Nestor had been standing just outside the open door patiently but nowtried to push Miguel and Miriam forward. “Mikey?”

Moving out of the way, Miguel let Miriam take Cris from his arms. The older Latina woman who had helped raise him expertly put Cris into her arms and his son snuggled down into her arms with a yawn, eyes half lidded in sleep. “Why don’t we let the rest of the family know that he’s home?” He gently asked Miriam when she looked up at Miguel.

“Si.... si!” Miriam answered, turning and carrying Cris towards the living room making Miguel trail after her.

Emily was ensconced on the sofa, her mobile in hand as she watched tv with all her needs arrayed around her—a drink, laptop, book and blanket wrapped around her with her legs propped up. Her blonde head snapped up at the sound of Cris’ babbling response to Miriam talking with him. “Cristóbal? Cristóbal!”

Emily threw off the blanket and sprang to her feet—much more agile and mobile than Miguel would have guessed based on how she’d been acting in the hospital he noted—and raced to Miriam. Once she reached Miriam, Emily practically snatched Cris out of the woman’s hands and let Cris flop against her making him cry out before Miguel could soothe him.

Miguel almost said something but saw that Emily was crying and saying their son’s name over and over, hand petting through the long baby curls as Cris began crying in earnest. The emotions rolling off Emily were multifaceted but the primary one was joy at having Cris returned to her as well as love. There was also anger directed towards Miguel but it lessened rapidly as she focused on their son. Relief. Worry. Frustration. So many emotions it was a tangle to sort through and he almost lost himself in it for a moment before refocusing on Cris’ simple tired crankiness that couldn’t understand why his mother wouldn’t let him go to sleep.

Chuckling at the simpleness of his cub’s emotions, it drew Emily’s attention and it was almost as if the very air around him chilled slightly. Glaring at him, Emily took three steps until she was almost touching Miguel and then his face was stinging with the force of her slap from her hand.

Cris began to wail and Miguel’s ears rung with the sound echoing unnaturally—not from the force of the slap but from the emotional storm around him overwhelming him. Cris was scared, had sensed the startled surprise and pain from Miguel as he hadn’t separated his shields from his tesoro and it had, unfortunately, been shared inadvertently. The shields he’d woven with EZ’s presence faltered and he momentarily blocked everything else out to refocus on his shield that was fracturing under stress.

Build a wall.

Build a barrier.

Separate himself from everyone.... except his tesoro and the tug that was the bond between him and his sentinel.

His sentinel.

The fleeting thought of EZ and he latched onto the threads that connected them soul to soul despite the physical distance. He used that pull to reweave a thin and intricate mental barrier between himself and others—pushing Emily’s emotions away from himself. Cris’ cries increased in volume before cutting off as he reached back out to his tesoro and wove him back into his shield like he had in the desert last night.

It took merely seconds to do all of this but it felt like an eternity.

His face hurt and there was a sharp sting over his right cheek. Emily had used her left hand and her engagement ring had dug into his skin and he was bleeding from the fine cut. Clenching his jaw, he shut his eyes and reinforced his barrier before opening them to glare at his wife.

Emily had her hand raised and when she saw his eyes open she tried to slap him again. He caught her wrist, fingers clenching down on the delicate bird-like bones until they ground together in what he was sure was a painful manner. “Stop,” he growled at her,gesturing to their son who was held in her other arm.

“You could have fucking answered the phone,” she spit out through gritted teeth, glare piercing as she flushed in anger. “Two days Miguel. Two fucking days!”

His mother had been somewhere nearby and she tried to take Cris from Emily, interrupting their staring match. Emily jerked out of his grip and spun around to shield Cris bodily from the rest of them, clutching him tight making his tesoro complain loudly and begin to cry again. “No!”

“Emily!” He lowered his voice into a command as her eyes flicked back to him, spitting mad. “You’re hurting him!”

Her eyes dropped to their son and her arms relaxed just slightly before her gaze returned to the rest of them, giving a small bounce to Cris as she readjusted him in her grip. “Where did you find him? What did you do?” She demanded.

Miguel checked his immediate reaction of incredulity and tried to find that calm center within himself that led straight back to EZ. Emily had previously danced around asking too many questions, knowing too much.He’d told EZ that Emily knew what his family did... where the money came from... what that meant. Her claim earlier this week that he was to do whatever was necessary to bring their tesoro back... she had only used euphemisms instead of saying exactly what she meant.

“What do you think I did?” He shot back, hands on his hips as his thoughts twisted at her implying he’d done something wrong. He used her own previous wording in his defense. “I did what was ‘necessary’.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she had to drop the glare to try and soothe Cris who was still crying but had started flailing with his arms and legs making holding him awkward. Cris was irritated and angry—he’d been ready and primed for a nap and instead he was being fought over.

Miguel felt like his vision narrowed to just his cub and he tried to send the same sensation of comfort, home, family, and love that he’d used last night to soothe him. This was getting nowhere and the sharp intrusion of Emily’s emotions pulsed at his shields like a vicious storm. He was just a newly awoken guide and he was separated from his center, his sentinel. The effort that he was putting into maintaining the shields around him and his son were draining his reserves at a drastic rate. He solidified the emotional buffer between his tesoro, him and Emily in a last ditch effort to gain some breathing room.

Cris hiccuped at the wave of emotion that enveloped him, breaking his cries and sniffled but stopped wailing but was still fussy. “He needs a bottle,” Emily insisted as she was distracted by their son, pulling away as Dita tried again to step forward and see her grandson.

“He just ate,” Miguel muttered, redoubling his efforts as he gained ground and frowning at his tesoro who gave another sob but didn’t keep crying. He wove another layer into the shielding around his tesoro and fed it, strengthening it at the expense of his own.

“Well how would you know what he needs?” Emily retorted, again adjusting Cris within her arms as she looked at their son. Her frown deepened and she brushed a hand through the wild curls. “He’s so pale... they didn’t take good care of him....”

Miguel firmed the shield that he’d erected around his tesoro, not allowing the negative emotions around Emily to touch him even as they slid off his own mind, causing a draining sensation. His cub had inherited his fair skin from Emily but he was almost red now from crying but seemed to be finally soothing under the constant influx of love Miguel was sending him.

“Emily...how about you sit down?” He tried, keeping his tone gentle and non confrontational. If she would just give him a little bit of room...

She eyed him suspiciously as she lightly bounced their son for a moment before taking his advice and settling into her spot on the couch with Cris still within her arms. When he attempted to follow to sit close her glare became glacial and her emotional assault was needle-like on his shields but they held just shy of complete failure.

He had to remind himself that she wasn’t intentionally doing this and had reasons to be angry with him—he should have called. He sat diagonally on one of the armchairs, his mother taking the one on the opposite side. Miriam silently excused herself as Nestor hung back in the doorway and out of the line of Emily’s rage.

“When did you get him back?” Emily fired at him as she tried to calm Cris.

“Late... last night,” Miguel allowed. It wasn’t a lie.

“And you couldn’t have called?” Was the immediate sharp response which garnered another discontented snuffle from his tesoro which diverted her attention briefly back to Cris.

“It was very late by the time..” he caught himself before he mentioned EZ. “by the time that I had him and we had a long ways to travel before it was safe.”

Emily looked at Nestor, nose crinkling in thought. “Nestor was here,” she stated the fact before tilting her head to look back at Miguel. “So... Miguel... you were where?How? Who is we?”

He folded his hands over his knees and leaned forward, smoothing out his expression. “I got our son back.How doesn’t matter.” Well it did but not right now. He wasn’t going to open that can of worms right now. His bonding with EZ was a problem for later when Emily wasn’t holding Cris and his shields were in better shape.

Emily ignored that he hadn’t addressed all her questions and focused down on Cris. Her silence was as good as a dismissal and, after a minute, he stood. His mother’s distressed look between himself and his wife spoke an entire lecture on how she didn’t approve of his response. Rather than say anything, he stood and strode over to Nestor.

“Miguel!” His mother called but he ignored her. “Miguel!”

Looking over his shoulder, he arched an eyebrow in question. “Yes Mother?”

She gestured at Emily helplessly, mouth slightly open as she tried to find words.“You’re just going to leave it like this?”

Emily met his gaze and her eyes still blazed with anger even if he couldn’t have just felt it swirling around the room. “I have things that must be taken care of,” was all he said before pushing Nestor towards his home office. “I’ll be back later.”

He’d give Emily time with Cris and then they could talk later—hopefully she’d calm down in the meantime and then they’d actually be able to discuss things later. He wasn’t sure how long the information on the laptop would be good for.

***

Entering his office, he closed the door behind him. “Nestor—I need the information in the laptop and the websites involved checked into.It was taken from a Los Olividados encampment.”

Nestor gave him a curious glance as he opened the pack and withdrew the laptop in question. “I will have have it looked into... where exactly did you find it?”

“On the other side of the border. In one of their encampments—they were using RVs and tents. Living out in the desert,” he explained as he sunk into his desk chair, rubbing his temple. The strain of being away from EZ was fatiguing and the emotional assault Emily had raged was tearing at his patience and concentration. “EZ catalogued about seven adults, maybe three times that in kids. Most of them were very young.”

Booting up the laptop, Nestor had attached a power cord and had the notebook open to it’s list while dialing on his cell and ordering another man to come to the office—one of their security experts in technology and the only one that was based out of his home. The laptop’s screen reflected on Nestor’s face as he concentrated and Miguel found the other sentinel’s presence wasn’t settling him at all—it was obvious his old friend was trying to suppress his own emotions as he was decidedly neutral in comparison to the rest of the house.... but he wasn’t the protective shelter and anchor point that EZ provided to Miguel’s mind.

The light knock on the door heralded the arrival of AJ—the tech support Nestor had summoned was a dark skinned half Mexican half black kid who Miguel had paid to go to Caltech and had promised to work for him in exchange. The kid was smart and intuitive, his skills advanced for his young age but loyal. His sister and uncle both worked for Miguel’s family. AJ knew where his loyalties were and Miguel could feel the younger man’s anticipation and focus as he took over from Nestor, asking only a few questions as he dived in and his focus sharpened.

Observing with his guide gifts, Miguel could feel AJ thinking and working in a soothing manner—the kid was mild mannered but quick. The underlying personality traits there like an open book for Miguel to read as he watched the kid work.The air around AJ was.. it almost made him think of mathematics and equations, a taste or tint to the air around him as he attached a usb drive to the computer and typed rapidly, ignoring both of the other men.

Trusting Nestor and AJ, Miguel let his attention drift away as he looked through the windows that overlooked the pool and pool house with the lawn and gardens beyond built into the hillside. HIs house was the highest up in this division and largest. There was a pool house and several acres of manicured gardens as well as two small cottages that his security staff worked out of. It was more of a compound or estate than simple house. The surrounding properties were owned by people that he trusted or that he knew enough about to have leverage on.

Being home meant work.

So much work.

When had it become this? 

When his father died?

A headache loomed, pressing against his temples in a steady pressure. Miguel hadn’t felt like this since before he’d bound himself to EZ... this was why sentinels and guides likely didn’t separate much. The distance between him and EZ was—and he only admitted this to himself—too much and too early. The absence of his sentinel was like a missing limb with an aching pain that pulled at him constantly to remind him that he was missing something essential.

Giving into the urge, he reached for his sentinel while the others were preoccupied. His tesoro was slipping into a light doze in the living room within Emily’s arms. His mother and Emily were having one of their cold arguments where neither would bend. Miriam had retreated to the kitchen and was already working on lunch—her bright spirit buoyed him and boosted his own mood with it’s optimism and hope. Why couldn’t everyone be as happy as Miriam that his tesoro had returned unharmed?

Further out, cast about to see his range. He had done this when he was at the encampment but he’d had EZ there to act as an anchor so he didn’t get lost. The pull and tug of emotions as he catalogued his people putting names and faces to mental presences. One by one he traced his security people, the groundskeeper and his two assistants who were working on a section of retaining wall that had needed some upkeep work done. The two assistants to Miriam that he’d hired as she was getting on in years were working on cleaning in different parts of the house. Emily’s own assistant was busy doing something in his wife’s office that was definitely not work from the feel of things—playing a game on her mobile to his annoyance.

Pushing out further, his headache intensified but he ignored it as he stretched in one specific direction.Feeling for EZ, he pushed down through the he bond to see how far he could reach and if he could touch his sentinel who was so far away and made Miguel want to growl in frustration as the bond slipped in his mental grip as he followed it’s trail to his sentinel.

He could sense EZ was focused on something but could feel the slight pulse in response to his search that felt... reflexive but acknowledged Miguel’s touch with a pulse of warmth, love... and an emotion that Miguel couldn’t name but made him snarl internally in want. The overall read that Miguel got was that EZ was speaking with someone that required him to focus and that could be any number of people—Bishop or his brother? Maybe his cousin? There were multiple presences around his sentinel but they weren’t hostile. It was hard to get more than a sense of presence without being physically alongside EZ.

Blinking, Miguel felt his headache ease slightly as he surfaced from the depths of the bond—the brief contact with his sentinel’s mind just enough to re-center him. He’d missed a few seconds of time but Nestor hadn’t noticed—was watching AJ type as his fingers flew over the keys.

“They didn’t password protect this... probably felt there was no need if they’re out in the middle of nowhere...” Nestor muttered, frowning at the screen over AJ’s shoulder. 

Pulling his hand away from his temple where he’d been rubbing at his headache, Miguel noted there was blood on his hand.

Shit. 

Emily’s ring.

Grabbing a facial tissue from the box on one of the bookshelves, he dabbed at his face, fingers searching out the edge of the mark Emily’d left. The cut was about an inch or so, shallow but still sluggishly bleeding. He held pressure with the tissue as he glanced back Nestor and AJ who hadn’t noticed him moving they were so absorbed in their work.

When Nestor just continued to work, he went to the attached bathroom and looked in the mirror, washing his hands and face. Emily had gotten him good. A linear cut right across the cheekbone from one of the prongs that held the cushion cut two carat diamond he’d given her when he’d proposed. The cut had mostly stopped bleeding but one corner had been disturbed by his fingers.

Scowling at his reflection, Miguel’s vision suddenly doubled and he was yanked back down the bond to EZ by a flair of pain and vicious possessiveness.

Someone had touched the mark he’d left on EZ and the still healing wound had been grabbed hard enough to cause pain.

The person who’d been foolish enough to touch EZ was not... wasn’t a sentinel but felt a lot like EZ but also different. Similar to EZ’s Pop—his Tesoro’s Abue—too.

Like a family member.

EZ’s older and only brother. It had to be Angel Reyes.Angel who didn’t have a good opinion of Miguel and actively had been plotting against him and helping his Tesoro’s kidnappers.

The anger was hot and powerful as it roiled through him and down into the bond to coalesce around EZ in protection.Miguel’s fingers dug into the stone of the sink as he mentally snarled at Angel for daring to touch his brother in a less than gentle manner. Instinctively, Miguel sent a flare of possessive protection, feeling a brush of fur against his fingers as an angry wolf howl echoed in his mind. The protective shielding he’d wrapped EZ hardened to rebuff the presence of another guide around his sentinel with an emotive shout of “back off bitch!” At the other guide.

Miguel could feel his sentinel responding, the bark of a shout and physical distance put between the two brothers—but not enough and the aggression and anger Miguel still sensed from Angel made him snarl protectively. The foreign guide backed off leaving EZ and Angel alone and dropping the attempt to soothe EZ as Miguel’s warning hit him.

Who was this other guide? 

They needed to back off right now or pull Angel away from Miguel’s Sentinel.

His vision still wavering, Miguel could almost feel his sentinel next to him with the ghost of a hand on his shoulder anchoring him. EZ was much more sanguine about his brother’s presence than Miguel was and was ignoring the other guide.Angel’s presence loomed large in front of Miguel and the aggression he could sense was not okay as it was focused on EZ who did not deserve it.

Miguel would fucking protect his sentinel if he didn’t have the sense to put more distance between himself and his aggressive brother.

Restraining him from wrecking vengeance on Angel for daring to touch EZ and their bond mark barely, Miguel knew a rumbling growl was escaping his own vocal cords and his teeth snapped like a wolf—he wanted Angel’s blood staining his teeth for touching EZ’s mark.Could almost taste the iron rich blood he could smell with each second as another rumbling snarl escaped him and EZ sunk his hands into the ruff of fur behind his ears to try and restrain him.

He wasn’t able to see it but Nestor—who’d finally noticed his friend and boss had wandered away—stared in shock. Miguel wasn’t glowing per se but the air around him practically vibrated with violence and there was the faint ripple in the air around Miguel.

“Mikey?” Nestor’s worried call of his name was momentarily ignored while Miguel focused on EZ and Angel. Angel was backing off, something... another snarl and howl that seemed to echo from his own chest cavity and he could hear in his head but not with his ears. The snap of too sharp teeth set in a canine snarl with fur standing on end, ears pinned back and the stalking move of a predator moving with his pack mate to encircle their prey. He didn’t move from his position between EZ and Angel, his ears tracking everyone else around them as he defended his mate.

The second repetition of his nickname made him startle as Nestor was standing right behind him but not touching him. “Mikey?”

Blinking rapidly, Miguel almost lost his balance as his legs turned to jelly and his hold on the bond slipped. He hunched over the sink, elbow striking the hard marble causing pain to shoot up his nerves and pulling him back to himself, anchoring him to his body. He was a human... not a wolf? His reflection in the mirror was pale, the cut standing out over his cheekbone and his eyes dilated unnaturally. The feeling of having run miles and miles, the elevated pulse and breathing, the overstrained feel in his muscles that shook with holding him upright made him glad for his grip on the counter. He still smelled blood and then he saw the tissue with his own blood on it where it had fallen in the sink.

“Mikey?” Nestor repeated a third time and this time did hesitantly lay a hand on Miguel’s shoulder to steady his boss as he swayed on his feet. “Jeesh Mikey. Pull back. Too much too soon and you’ll put yourself in a coma!”

“What?” Miguel’s voice was raspy and he was half-surprised to hear speech from his own mouth.

Nestor pushed Miguel to sit on the closed toilet seat and barely kept him from pitching forward as his muscles protested working. “Shit. I’m a sentinel not a guide... they only told us to look out for this stuff...” Nestor radiated concern and worry with a side of barely staved off panic.

Putting his head on his hands, the looming headache was now a migraine. Why had he thought he’d be fine without EZ?The cool blue-tinted bathroom was almost too bright despite it only being late morning. Closing his eyes, he breathed in and out through his nose while pushing Nestor’s hands away. “I need a moment,” he grumbled, trying to refocus.

Through the bond he could feel EZ’s question—was Miguel okay? Did he need his sentinel?

No... talk with your brother, Miguel tried to send back as he rubbed his eyes. I’m okay. We will get through this.

The general sense of worry didn’t completely go away that he was getting from EZ but he could tell his Sentinel was preoccupied with whatever his brother was saying to him. The scuff of Nestor’s boots on the tile reminded Miguel he wasn’t alone himself. “Explain,” he ordered.

Nestor couched down to talk at the same level. “Guides... new ones can get overwhelmed just as easily as sentinels. Especially ones like you—strong ones. Their own version of zones.It’s why you’re supposed to go to the SGC as soon as you present.”

“No. Absolutely not,” Miguel snapped then took a deep breath. This wasn’t his friend’s fault and he needed to stop being an asshole to Nestor. “What would they do for me?I don’t... they didn’t do right by my sentinel....”

Nestor thought a moment. “Not sure... but there’d be other guides there. I’m... C class. I only get more training in my senses if I bond.They don’t spend a lot of extra time on someone who is at low risk of having problems or being useful.”

Miguel inclined his head, resting his chin on his palm as he looked at his almost-brother and the bitterness that flavored that last statement. “The SGC doesn’t seem to do a whole lot for a lot of sentinels and guides.”

Nestor shrugged, pretending to be unbothered but Miguel could feel that his feelings were much different. “It’s a lot of money to just screen everyone and provide medical assistance. Training is targeted at your level—why put more into you if you’re not ever going to be able to do it?”

Grimacing, Miguel shook his head in the negative. “But how much of that is really helping us? I don’t....” he trailed off. EZ had avoided the centers and Nestor didn’t need them a lot with his senses for the most part. Miguel could remember when Nestor had come back from the center as a child—he’d still had so many spikes. When they’d eaten lunch in the school cafeteria he’d had to watch his friend to make sure he completed chewing and swallowing his food and didn’t zone out and accidentally choke himself. The talk Miguel’s father had had with him about his responsibility to his best friend had been scary and he’d dreaded messing up and Nestor dying had been a fear to him through the rest of middle school and had only faded mostly by the time they’d been high school seniors as Nestor had pretty good control. “My dad told me I needed to look out for you after you came online.”

Nestor sighed. “You did. I thought... I kind of hoped some day you’d come online as a guide and be mine... but then you met Emily and got married and I stopped thinking that.”Nestor was trying very hard not to be jealous and the little chat EZ had with him was making this awkward.

Well, more awkward Miguel supposed. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’m not your guide.”

“No you’re not,” Nestor stated calmly. “You and... Reyes.... you’re made for each other.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t be sad that my best friend isn’t,” Miguel said with regret. Nestor was right—he’d never willingly give up EZ for anything. Not even for his best friend. But there was a bit of sadness mixed in it all that he wasn’t able to be the guide for his best friend. “For you... I never asked about how they find guides for sentinels?”

“You mean for low class sentinels like me?” Nestor asked, self-deprecatingly. “Your sentinel—Reyes—is the type that gets all the attention.”

“He didn’t,” Miguel insisted. “They just locked him up and tossed away the key.”

Nestor pursed his lips in thought and didn’t immediately reply. “Which is odd... when did he come online?”

“When his mother died... he was arrested within hours.”Miguel reminded himself that he needed to have a chat with his lawyers.

Grimacing, Nestor relaxed enough to sit on the tiled floor, legs splayed out in front of him so he could keep talking. Crouching like that would have been uncomfortable otherwise. “He was arrested right then?”

“Yes.”

“Shit. He’d be a stained sentinel then.”Nestor looked and felt worried and something else that Miguel wasn’t sure of.

Miguel perked up. “He used that term. A stained one.”

Licking his lips in nervousness, Nestor fiddled with his hands before answering. “If you’re a sentinel and you’re a criminal... especially if you killed someone as your first act as a sentinel? Then yeah... and he’s Mexican.”

“That would be discriminatory,” Miguel argued. “What does his heritage matter?”

Nestor didn’t answer the question and instead asked one of his own. “Did they rate him or just shoot him full of blockers?”

“Blockers?”

“Sense blockers. Make you feel numb. They’re used by most police and military departments for detained sentinels.”

“Would they have known what kind of sentinel EZ was?” Miguel asked for clarification.

“Maybe?” Nestor offered, his expression showing how uncertain of that he was. “When I came online my levels spiked up and down a lot before settling. It took a week or two at the center before they were sure I only had two senses that were spiking and it took a lot of time with a teaching guide for me to learn to adjust.I thought that it was because I was still a kid when it happened...”

“But what if that’s typical? Would they have known what EZ is?”Miguel was almost completely sure that they hadn’t been. EZ had not mentioned any time spent with a guide other than at his trial—no teacher-type guide. He also, maybe selfishly, didn’t sense that EZ had previously had any sort of even a surface or temporary bond with a guide before him.

Nestor shook his head a look of surprise on his face. “ They wouldn’t have,” he agreed. “If they had—they’d have never stuck him in prison. He’d have been signed up for the military and they would have—“ he stopped talking, going pale.

“They would have what?” Miguel asked sharply, demanding to know what Nestor was thinking.

His best friend was very nervous about answering him. “They would have forced him into a commitment.”

“What’s a commitment?” It couldn’t be anything good from what he was picking up from Nestor.

Nestor rubbed the back of his head, obviously trying to find a way to say something that Miguel wasn’t going to like very much. “When you misbehave... the center makes it clear what your options are as a sentinel. What you should choose to do.”

“Which is what exactly?EZ was newly online and his mother had just been murdered.”Miguel was glaring at his best friend, encouraging Nestor to just spit out whatever it was that he didn’t want to tell him.

“It’s part of the sentinel codes... not well known unless you’re a sentinel,” Nestor started then stopped before continuing. “If you’re charged with a crime like murder but you’re valuable enough there’s prosecutorial discretion to offer alternative sentencing. Reyes is either an alpha or high beta grade sentinel is my guess since he feels.... they’d have pushed him into the special forces or he’d be some sort of spook most likely if they’d looked at him closely when he was brought in.”

“A spy or special forces,” Miguel stated flatly, his mind turning the idea over. EZ had a lot of guilt that Miguel hadn’t even begun to unpack when he’d spoken of what had happened when he’d come online. The inexperienced college student that EZ had been... the thought of his sentinel being pushed into a rigid military environment... trained to kill, infiltrate, and whatever else one did within the special forces. The college kid he’d seen in that photo this morning wouldn’t have become his EZ if that had happened . Trained to spy... well that was what the DEA had asked of him wasn’t it? And no formal training in how to be a spy.

The emotions EZ expressed showed how sensitive his sentinel was and how he’d stated that the legality of something should factor into whether it should be done.EZ was observant—he’d noticed that before when EZ had accidentally spoken out at the meeting only a few weeks ago. It hadn’t escaped Miguel’s notice how EZ refused to say exactly what his brother thought of Miguel—and he was sure it wasn’t very complimentary.

His sentinel also seemed to have a strong sense of right and wrong that was probably stronger than Miguel’s. He had the sinking suspicion that a lot of the things he’d found himself doing since his father had died and left him in control would not be what EZ would consider ‘right’. Felipe had been so hard to read, blocked him from using his newfound senses to judge what his pseudo-father-in-law thought of him. Miguel thought he might have gotten some slight approval from Felipe but knew it could be lost in a moment with the wrong decision or if he got EZ in trouble.

Shit.

He needed to re-evaluate some of the decisions he’d made previously when he’d been fighting to keep the business he’d inherited afloat and under his control. Miguel wanted to legitimize his business and had plans to do so but the execution of his plan was going to be tricky, tedious and had a lot of potential problems ahead that could completely derail it. He wasn’t naive about how business involved both legal and illegal moving parts in Mexico if you wanted to be successful. The effects of the american war on drugs and it’s resultant narco-politics in the last thirty or forty years had saturated all levels of finance and business within Mexico and the countries south of it.

Legitimacy was going to be hard to obtain but he’d have to try. For EZ. For his sentinel.

A knock at the door echoed in the tiled bathroom. Miguel could sense AJ on the other side.He inclined his head towards the door, letting Nestor handle it as he rested his head in his hands, closing his eyes and trying to ignore the pounding headache.

AJ spoke quietly but Miguel could clearly hear him.“The phone’s been buzzing—it’s the boss’.”

“Thanks,” Nestor simply said and took the cell phone from AJ and then closed the door in the man’s face. 

It was Miguel’s mobile—he’d placed it on the corner of the desk when they’d been hooking up the computer. Nestor handed it to him and Miguel cracked his eyes open just enough to unlock the phone, pulling up his messages.

Eight messages from EZ over the last fifteen minutes:

_Are you okay?_

_Miguel?_

_Please text back something to let me know if you read this_

_Please?_

_Babe—I can tell something’s wrong. Please_

_If you don’t reply I’m going to head your way_

_Please Miguel_

_I’ll be there in twenty minutes_

The last message had been sent less than two minutes ago. Miguel thumbed the contact information and tapped to dial EZ’s phone. Calling was likely better than texting if EZ was driving.

EZ answered on the second ring.

“Babe?” EZ’s worry was clear over the sound of the motorcycle’s engine cutting out abruptly. EZ must have pulled off to the side of the road so he could hear.

“If you call me babe I’m going to call you something equally ridiculous,” Miguel chuckled into the phone. He did and didn’t like EZ calling him babe and it sent a small thrill down his back.

“Babe,” EZ dropped his voice, an exasperated noise at the end like an exclamation point that reassured Miguel. He’d have to think on an appropriate pet name for EZ.

“I’m fine. However your brother needs to keep his hands to himself,” Miguel sighed into the phone, waving Nestor out of the room.

“You felt that?” EZ seemed to be implying something else but it was hard to get a full read without his sentinel being physically in the same room.

“I did,” Miguel allowed. “Did you tell him?”

“That we bonded?it was kind of obvious I now had a guide.Coco knew the moment he saw me.”The rolled eyes were clear through the bond. What wasn’t clear was how much Angel Reyes had been told.

“Did he?Do they know it’s me?” Miguel prodded EZ. He both did and didn’t want it widely known he was EZ’s guide. It really would be better if it stayed under wraps but that other guide—Coco?—being around EZ made his possessive instincts writhe and demand satisfaction he shouldn’t give in to.

“No. I may have left that part out.Angel was too freaked out over the pair of wolves snapping at him to focus on that part.”

Wolves? Miguel’s mind blanked. He thought... were spirit animals... shit.

“I knew—theoretically at least—that spirit animals were a thing but I didn’t expect yours to show up to defend my honor,” EZ added in a softer tone, more cajoling as he seemed to need to fill the silence on Miguel’s end. “He’s beautiful—your spirit animal. Just like you.”

“I’m not beautiful,” he reflexively denied. Women were beautiful not men. “Try handsome.”

“No you’re definitely beautiful Babe,” EZ’s tone dipped back into a tease. “I know what my eyes tell me.”

Miguel snorted. “So plans?”

“Should I?”EZ was asking if he should join Miguel. He wanted to tell his sentinel yes but Emily would not respond well to his sentinel’s presence... but that likely wouldn’t change with a handful of hours.

Licking his lips, Miguel noticed that Nestor had stepped out when he wasn’t paying attention to give him privacy. Normally he tried to keep things vague on his personal phone line in case of wire taps. “What time and where for Bishop?”

“This afternoon. He said the usual place,” Which Miguel guessed EZ wasn’t sure what that meant given the curiosity he pushed towards Miguel through the bond.

“Make it around three,” Miguel offered—he knew where Bishop meant. That would give Nestor and AJ time with the information on the computer and he’d have time to have a chat with his lawyer as well as a few other tasks that had come to mind.

“Okay. Do you need me before then?”

“I’ll always need you,” slipped out before he could stop himself. The sharp intake of breath at his confession was audible through the phone.He did want EZ with him but there was so much to do. “But... you and I both have things we need to do so we can be together tonight.”

“Tonight,” EZ breathed into the phone and the bond vibrated with a complex sending of want and desire—both sexual and not. The thought of EZ wrapped around him was so visceral that when he let his eyes close he could imagine his sentinel was embracing him, surrounding him. It made his headache start to recede it was so powerful.

“EZ,” he couldn’t help calling his sentinel’s name and the pull of their bond increased as EZ focused on him and it. “My EZ.”

“Tonight,” it was a promise this time. “I will see you around three.”

“EZ...” he tried to think of something to say—something to verbalize what he was feeling but it wouldn’t come. Instead, he wrapped his mental hands around EZ and returned the love, want, desire, and hunger he felt. The feeling that made his bones ache with need for his sentinel. The sense of safety and home EZ elicited.

Neither of them hung up as they listened to each other breathe and submerged themselves within their bond—the distance physically between them ignored.

Miguel lost time as he just felt his sentinel and the tension in his body melted to give relief. The strength he drew from EZ reinforced his shields that were tattered from being around others, the damage Emily’s anger had done repaired itself. With EZ’s help he could sense everyone within the house and it no longer felt like a too tight stretch, just a background awareness that would become natural to him.

Was this how all bonds were? He understood why guides wanted their sentinel. Nestor’s warning of the guide-equivalent of a zone made sense. With EZ focused on him it was natural for him to spread out his senses like a spider sitting in his web.Without his anchor, his strength given to him by EZ it would be easy to let a small detail pull him off balance and lose himself within the flow and tangle of the emotions of his people, his wife, his mother and his tesoro. EZ made it easy for him to be aware but not lose himself to them, strengthening his shields to let him walk among them like a normal person but with a heightened awareness. It was like being colorblind for most of his life and now seeing everything in riotous colors that were garish and offensive without the filter of EZ.

The sound of another motorcycle motor transmitted through the speaker. Distant at first and then loud enough that it had to be right next to EZ. “EZ?” Was the worried male voice and the presence was familiar around EZ. “Hey?Are you zoned?”

EZ’s annoyed huff identified the speaker to give Miguel confirmation he was right about the speaker’s identity. “Angel. I’m fine. I was just talking with my guide.”

There was a pause and Miguel listened, waiting on the other speaker. “Oh. Are you coming back?El Presidente asked where you were going.”

“I’ll see you at three,” Miguel simply told his sentinel before he could be asked. “Tonight, EZ” he stressed.

“Yeah Babe,” EZ answered, a hint of frustration present but his hold on their bond firmed before relaxing and then fading due to the distance between them. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Tonight.” The phone conversation ended with his sentinel hanging up.

Deep breath time. He had work to do.

***

_X.Angel_

Angel stared at the snarling, gigantic wolf that was pressed against his baby brother and angry at him. The animal had appeared as if by magic out of thin air and it was angry at him. So very, very angry. Enough to snap at his hand and try to take out a chunk of flesh in defense of his brother who looked just as surprised as Angel felt to see a wolf get between them. The rumbling growl made his primitive instincts sit up in warning and tell him to run away and fast but he was frozen in place. Watching those sharp teeth snap at him if he so much as twitched.

What.

The.

Actual.

Fuck?

He could dimly recall later hearing Coco’s frantic voice trying to remind him of their brief conversation—that his baby brother had basically gotten married during his disappearance to a guide that Angel didn’t know. That was what bonding was—wasn’t it? But he’d disappeared for two whole freaking days and then Angel had gotten the message from Adelita that someone knew enough to grab Galindo’s kid out from her encampment and she was furious and asking him if he’d told someone he shouldn’t.

For the record he hadn’t told anyone but he was angry she’d even asked him—never mind it’d really been an accusation.Coco had crashed on his couch last night and listened to Angel’s complaints about how unfair Adelita was being and the guide had been soothing, agreeing with Angel’s assessment of the situation. They’d made a quick dash under the border to meet up with Adelita and she’d been less kind in person than she’d been on the phone. 

Angel wasn’t sure what he was going to do now that Adelita was furious with him but they still needed a buyer for the keys of cocaine that Adelita had given him to raise the money she needed. He’d wanted EZ’s help with that but his brother’s disappearance had derailed those plans until he’d been found.

And his brother had been getting laid.

Basically.

That’s what Coco implied anyway. That’s what sentinels did when they found their guides. Had a sex marathon that tied them together and bound them tighter than a normal marriage. Angel wasn’t an idiot and he knew the stories even if he wasn’t online like EZ. He knew it was a possibility that his baby brother would somehow find that mythical “one” but he hadn’t thought it would happen now.

When Coco had not been able to work as a guide for EZ, Angel assumed his brother was okay with being unbound. EZ was twitchy enough about it when Angel had asked him after he’d been home for a few weeks. Their Pops had been worried about EZ going off the blockers they’d dosed him with in prison that he’d asked Angel if he knew any guides that could work with his brother temporarily at least. So Ezekiel wouldn’t zone at the wrong time and get himself killed now that he was out of prison.

And then Angel’d asked EZ about if there was a guide that would work better than Coco? The way EZ’s shoulders had hunched up around his ears was telling as was the embarrassment but the painful sound EZ had made before saying “What would a guide want with an ex con like me?” had made Angel angry then and still did. EZ was the best brother he could ever have asked for and deserved to have one of those soulmate matches that chick flicks were made about.Which in retrospect maybe he was happy that Coco wasn’t a match for EZ as that would have been really awkward.

But right now there was a huge fucking wolf snarling at him that EZ had his hand sunk into the ruff of fur right behind the thing’s ears.

Actually it wasn’t snarling anymore as it practically melted into EZ’s hands as he found the spots that make the wolf melt into him. Which was when a second one—just as large as the first—showed up and whined like a dog for it’s share of attention which EZ easily gave in to.

“There’s fucking two of them?” Angel shouted in shock. The first wolf gave him a satisfied side-eye that was such a human expression that it boggled Angel’s mind.

“Those are spirit animals,” Coco said breathlessly, a look of wonder on his face as he crouched next to Angel. “Actual spirit animals!” He added giddily. “Your brother has a spirit animal!”

Looking at Coco like he was babbling nonsense, Angel could see that his best friend was fascinated by the pair of wolves. The look of wonder on Coco’s face was childlike. Reaching out, Angel shoved Coco to get his attention. “Spirit animals?”

Coco’s look was injured at Angel’s tone. “Don’t you watch the movies?”

Rolling his eyes, Angel gestured at the pair of wolves that his brother was currently all but cooing at in spanish. Both of the large canines looked up adoringly at EZ and he staggered a bit as the first one aggressively pressed itself into his hip and hands, nose buried in EZ’s groin where it let out a snuffling noise. “But these are wolves... and I thought spirit animals were like see-through ghosts?”

Coco waved in dismissal. “They’re like really rare. Your brother’s guide is pretty strong to be able to do that.”

“Really?” Angel turned back to looking at the wolf that had almost bit him. The thing was now as cuddly as a normal, giant-sized dog, pressed into EZ’s side as his fingers traced the brow ridge and skull, smoothing down the fur in a caress. It was... intimate. Almost too intimate to watch given how soft EZ’s face was. “Powerful?”

“Yeah. That’s like alpha-level shit,” Coco went on. “I mean like it was obvious with a binding mark like that on his neck that she doesn’t mess around.”

“What?” Angel was confused and his eyes found the purple mark on the right side of EZ’s neck that was swollen and bruised right over the jugular, looked terrible really and like it had hurt a lot.He didn’t remember that from any movies.

“Yeah. That’s like old school stuff back when they used to do it primitive-like. Now that the centers make sure bindings go okay you don’t see stuff like that here in the US. Bond marks like that?They’re like a billboard advertising to other guides that ‘this sentinel is ‘claimed’ yo.Saw a few like that over in the sandbox. You didn’t mess with someone claimed like that.”

“Claimed?” His voice sounded a little bit strangled as he thought about his baby brother having really aggressive sex enough to have a woman leave that kind of possessive mark on EZ. Primitive was one word for it. What had EZ gotten himself into and how could Angel make sure it didn’t get him killed?They’d just gotten him back...

“Yeah—bonds like that? They’re forever. Some even claim they last into the afterlife and beyond.Like reincarnation and shit.”Coco was still excitedly talking about guide bonds, watching EZ with them like the most fascinating thing he’d ever witnessed. Angel wasn’t paying close enough attention but the bit about how strong of a bond his little brother had made worried him.

What had EZ done? As he watched the first wolf made a chuffing noise and sneezed, giving one last baleful glare at Angel before fading away before his eyes. The other wolf stayed where it was pressed against EZ who was using his free hand to fish his cell out of his jacket and type out a text message, eyes locked on the ground where the first wolf had disappeared.

Now that the angry one had gone away, Angel hesitantly got to his feet, brushing the seat of his pants to get the small gravel rocks and dirt off his jeans.

They’d garnered an audience and most of the club was standing on the club’s front porch watching them. Bishop idly waved with his coffee mug before taking a sip. “Everything all right?” El Presidente remarked, a small smile on his face that said he was finding everything humorous.

“We’re cool,” Coco said with a smile that faltered as he looked at EZ. “Right?”

“Copacetic,” EZ wryly remarked, giving one last pet to the second wolf’s head before it faded away too.

Angel rolled his eyes at his brother’s comment. Show off. Gingerly approaching his brother, Angel hesitated then gently placed a hand on EZ’s shoulder giving him a small smile. “You bonded?”

“Yeah,” EZ’s eyes met his. The pride and joy at confirming that was evident and the smile that broke across his little brother’s face was beautiful. “I found my guide.”

“Congratulations,” Angel whispered, pulling EZ into his body for a hug. His brother’s arms wrapped tightly around his chest, squeezing just right as their bodies slotted together—EZ’s bulkier frame slipping into Angel’s leaner and taller one. EZ smelled of home and family with a hint of aftershave. Angel tucked EZ’s head into his shoulder and his own into the crease of neck and shoulder on the opposite side, just reassuring himself that EZ was okay and the sense of panic he’d been fighting down ever since he’d disappeared receded—finally.

EZ waited him out, not resisting as Angel just took a moment.Mentally, he repeated a new mantra: his little brother was safe, nothing bad had happened. Angel’s recurring nightmare was that someone would kill his brother or Pops like they had his mom. EZ was here and he’d talked to Pops briefly this morning on the phone when he’d stopped for coffee at the gas station near his house. Having EZ here and not in prison where he couldn’t keep an eye on him had made things better but this disappearance? The not knowing where EZ was for two days?It had reignited all his worries again. “You scared me,” Angel whispered into EZ’s ear.

“Sorry,” EZ replied just as softly. “Time kind of got away from me a bit for a while.”

Touching his lips to EZ’s skin, Angel closed his eyes and pulled EZ tighter just a bit. “I just worry.You only just got home...” He didn’t add that Adelita’s agitation had made him want to make sure his family was safe. The worry that he’d maybe bitten off more than he could chew was chronically at the back of his mind, emerging every so often when he looked at EZ or Pops. Adelita was... convincing though in her arguments and the money would be good for maybe Pops to retire and get EZ a place of his own instead of bunking in that trailer in Pop’s yard. Maybe he could even convince Adelita to be his regular girlfriend.

Finally, Angel let his grip relax and let EZ slip out of his arms. It amused him greatly that EZ immediately held his phone up and shot off another text message. “She got you on a short leash already?”EZ had been... adorable when it came to Emily and a total pushover for anything his girl had wanted. Obviously his brother hadn’t changed anything in the years since he’d last had a steady girlfriend.

EZ bit his lips in a smile. “Just want to make sure my guide isn’t ready to march over here and beat you to a pulp for touching me.”

Angel scoffed mockingly. “Have you explained how brothers work?”

A shrug. “I didn’t expect the wolf either,” EZ explained before giving him a mischievous look. “And I’m pretty sure my guide can take you out.”

Rolling his eyes at his baby brother, grabbing him and rubbing his fist over the tightly shorn hair making EZ tussle with him automatically reverting to their baseline way of resolving issues. “I’ll show you who’s your big brother,” Angel joked with him as he let EZ slip out of his hold a second time, laughing.

Laughing with Angel, EZ shrugged and then sent another text message. The smile on his face became slightly worried. “No replies?” Angel asked.

“No,” EZ’s reply was neutral but there was a slight worry on his face. “If I don’t get a reply I’m going to have to—“

“No I get it,” Angel said, raising his hands. “If she can do that with the wolves?Yeah.I just want to meet her soon.”

The look that came over EZ’s face was odd but he nodded. “Soon.I gotta just...” he gestured with his phone back at his bike.

“Yeah. Don’t let me stop you. Just next time don’t disappear for two fucking days!I mean it Ezekiel!” Angel called at his brother’s back as he mounted his motorcycle. The wave EZ gave him in acknowledgment was distracted as he started the motor and kicked up the kick stand before slowly easing out and making the tight turn to return to the highway and back towards the center of town with another wave.

Coco reproached him after a few minutes. “You think he might zone?That would have taken a lot out of a guide to do that—being newly bonded and all.”

“What?” Angel’s head whipped around to look at Coco who held his hands up at his glare.

“Doing that,” Coco gestured to make fangs and snapped them in Angel’s face, “takes a lot out of someone. I mean I could tell some high-powered guide had met their sentinel. Everyone could and there’s gonna be a baby boom in about nine months or so you know what I mean? And EZ?He’s one lucky sentinel to be doing that... but man!”

“What do you mean? Baby boom? What does that have to do with my brother?” Angel was confused and wanted to shake Coco to get to the point.

“You know how everyone has been like... hornier than horny the last day or two?That’s because your brother has been banging this guide. Every slightly sensitive guide or sentinel maybe even nulls within at least a hundred miles has been getting feedback from them—or at least I assume it’s EZ given the wolfies and all...”

“Coco?!?” Angel snarled—he’d been feeling a bit frustrated but that was because of Adelita not anything his brother had done. “Get to the point.”

“Sorry man!I... um... while EZ’s got himself a really strong guide doing that shit? That spirit animal thing?Like I’d be unconscious if I even tried to do something like that and they’re newly bonded and everything.”Coco hunched into himself, aware that Angel was losing his patience.

“What do you mean?” Angel crossed his arms and glared at Coco. “What are you talking about?”

“His guide was leaking feedback like everywhere—you noticed it!I know you did with your..um... not-girlfriend and everything last night.”

Adelita had not been willing to do anything last night, too agitated and angry when he’d tried to put the moves on her to make her settle down a bit—refusing even to give him a kiss goodbye. He’d had to take care of things once he’d gotten home and it’d taken more than one to do it for some odd reason, his skin feeling too hot and tight—restless. “You mean... my baby brother was making everyone get busy a bit more than usual?” 

“Um yeah. Sorry man!” Coco held his hands up again as Angel scowled.

“I don’t get why that would make EZ zone though.” Angel didn’t. Really. What did zoning out have to do with sex?

“His guide?She’s prolly tapped out. They talk in the centers about how much it takes out of you to bind yourself to a sentinel and to maintain shields so they don’t zone and she was leaking emotions like a sieve to get everyone this hot and bothered so she must be pretty new. You’re not supposed to be away from them for a week or two after you bond—it’s like gospel truth!”

“But they bonded what? Two days ago?” Angel said in growing horror, connecting the dots. “So EZ’s like what? Completely helpless?”

“Not worse than before but I’m sure he shares with his guide—energy that is. Bonds pull both ways according to the centers.”

And EZ’s guide had just used a ton of energy to project a spirit animal at Angel and wasn’t right next to his idiotic brother. And his guide was new enough that she might be accidentally pulling too much through the bond. “She’s gonna make him zone—that’s what you’re saying?”

“No? Maybe? I don’t know?” Coco ran his hands through his hair, pulling on the curls in stress. “I just can’t believe they’re apart you know? Like I can’t even imagine if I bonded staying away from my sentinel and I’m not anywhere near her league.”

Angel was already moving. HIs idiotic brother was going to zone and wipe out or something worse was going to happen. He just knew it. His chest was tight making his breathing hard as he pulled his helmet on and didn’t fasten the chin strap, already throttling the engine as it roared to life between his legs. Coco was calling his name but he was too focused on finding Ezekiel right now and making sure his baby brother was okay as he pushed off, engine rumbling as it kicked into gear.

***

He found EZ not too far away. There was a strip of highway between the area where the Mayans clubhouse was in the industrial area and the rest of Santo Padre. EZ had pulled off onto the shoulder and was sitting on his bike, motor turned off with his phone on his ear. At first he was so still that Angel thought he’d zoned on whoever he was talking with but when he pulled up alongside his brother cutting his own engine. 

EZ’s head turned and their eyes met when Angel asked if he was zoned out, his expression distant.EZ was mentally somewhere else but he wasn’t zoned, his pupils constricted tightly as he listened to his phone. “Angel I’m fine. I’m just talking with my guide.”

Angel now felt foolish. EZ was fine obviously but the tightness in his chest hadn’t gone away yet. “Are you coming back? El presidente asked where you were going,” Angel bullshitted, downplaying his own worry and what Coco had said to him which was obviously the wrong assumption. He’d said he understood that EZ would need to see his guide after the wolf thing... EZ was fine he mentally told himself again. Weird looking but fine.

The soft, “Yeah babe... I’ll see you tonight,” ended EZ’s phone call and he blinked rapidly at Angel, his head giving a light shake as he struggled to answer. “Sorry... it’s... my guide is fine.”

“Ezekiel?” Angel asked again. He needed to get a grip and his brother was starting to look at him like he’d grown a second head. “Coco said that you shouldn’t be apart from your guide... that it’s too early.”

EZ took a deep breath and let it out slowly, shoulders rolling slightly. “It’s not great but we’re okay. You said Bishop is looking for me?He just saw me....”

Shit. He should have picked some other reason to chase after his brother. “It’ll be fine. How about I ride with you to the shop.Dad said there was an issue with the motor for the display case he wanted one of us to look at.”

EZ’s look said that Angel wasn’t completely selling the shit he was shoveling. “Okay..if you’re sure Bishop will be okay with that. You remember I’m just a prospect right?”

“Well you’re under your sponsor’s purview so I get to order you around,” Angel grinned at his brother, reaching out to ruffle his hair but his hand was swiped away before he could by EZ. At least this time EZ hadn’t punched him—when he’d first gotten out of prison EZ had actually punched him a few times when he’d accidentally touched him. His brother’s time in prison hadn’t been good for the cuddly little brother who’d went in.

“Lead the way,” EZ said with a long suffering sigh.

“Happily,” Angel agreed as they both restarted their engines.

***

The entire ten minute ride to the family store didn’t make Angel feel any calmer or better.Pops had mentioned that the motor wasn’t working right when he’d talked to him yesterday. Both EZ and him had spent a lot of hours over the years trying to get the temperamental equipment to continue behaving itself as there wasn’t a lot of money to replace the entire meat case like it should have been a decade ago.

He made EZ ride up next to him rather than follow given there was enough room in the road. The glances he kept stealing at his brother had been noticed and EZ was humoring him at the moment but obviously thought Angel was being weirder than usual. That was the problem when you had a frickin’ genius for a kid brother. EZ usually figured out pretty quickly when Angel was trying to bullshit him. However, as the younger brother EZ tended to follow along with whatever shenanigans Angel was leading him into anyway.

It used to bother Angel a lot that EZ was naturally more academically inclined but prison had been an equalizer of sorts for them. The kid that had gone into prison wasn’t the man who’d come out. EZ was more guarded, talked less and didn’t like to be touched without being able to see it coming. His brother’s body language had changed even and it wasn’t a sentinel thing. EZ just always seemed ready to defend himself, fists gripping his vest tight in a position to defend himself any time someone got to close—even Angel.

Then there was the whole Emily business with the missing kid and how she kept accidentally running into EZ?Angel wasn’t blind—it was obvious Emily still had an attachment to EZ even if she’d become a social climbing bitch and married Galindo, playing house up in the hills where all the rich people lived. Angel had thought that maybe EZ had returned her obvious interest but the whole guide-thing probably was going to make that stop now.

Probably for the better—the looks Emily had been giving EZ had made Angel think that they would lead to nothing but trouble and heartbreak for his brother. EZ needed stability and playing with the cartel boss’ wife that Angel was undermining? Yeah they didn’t need that trouble. Emily was hot but she’d had a knack for driving EZ crazy when they’d been dating. Some of their fights?Angel winced in memory of some of the things EZ had gone along with to make Emily happy. Yeah. No Emily would probably be a good thing for EZ.

Parking in the alley behind the store, they used the back door to enter. Pops was at work, slicing some deli meat for the Subway shop that was two stores down while one of the kids who worked there was watching him, waiting impatiently underneath his branded ball cap. They must be getting all the lunch orders in if they were getting more meat, Angel mused. “Hey Pops” he and EZ chorused in concert like they always did.

Pops looked up to give them a nod of acknowledgment. “You come to look at the motor?”

“Yeah.I thought EZ might have better luck this time,” Angel joked, pushing EZ towards the toolbox they kept stashed underneath the register. Angel then grabbed a cherry flavored soda from the cooler and snapped the lid off, taking a drink as EZ yanked the heavy metal box into his hands.

Crouching down, EZ slipped the panel out that covered the motor. “So when you said you’d help Pops... what you really meant is you’d watch me fix it,” he grumbled as he laid down sideways on the floor to get a better look at the malfunctioning motor.

“Of course,” Angel said with a smile. “Do you need me to hold the flashlight?”

EZ answered in the affirmative and fished it out of the toolbox, handing it to Angel who dutifully flicked it on and shone the light on the motor. It was a bit hard to see well without help but he was sure EZ could just use his special sentinel senses to see better anyways. Pops shuffled around behind them, handing over the meat he’d been slicing and ringing up the sale in the ancient cash register that required punching the keys hard to make them work right. A jingle over the door sounded as the sandwich shop dude left and then it rang a second time when someone else came in.

“Kevin,” he heard Pops greet the customer. “What are you wanting today? How was the roast beef?”

“It was good.I was hoping for some more of the salami you make,” was the relaxed reply.

Angel vaguely recognized that voice and he looked up to see who it was. Shit. It was his cousin Kevin. The fucking DEA agent. What was he doing here?He didn’t live nearby.

Before Angel could duck down and ignore his cousin, his cousin greeted him. “Angel—long time no see.And EZ.You guys still help out your dad?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew. This chapter took a bit. I got engrossed in too much research and ended up reading The Power of the Dog by Don Winslow—which interesting read and I recommend it (but maybe not for the quality of it’s prose... it’s a content read). It’s not exactly the easiest or nicest read but it’s thought provoking. Not a book to read if you want to believe the war on drugs has been successful or hasn’t caused more problems than it’s solved. I may have also rewatched Narcos: Mexico while writing this chapter. 
> 
> Anyways, thanks for reading. Comments are always appreciated and make me write faster. Kudos adored.


	6. Xi-XII

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XI: EZ discovers his second. 
> 
> XII: Miguel has meetings and a few complications arise.

_XI. EZ_

Angel was acting weirdly twitchy the entire ride over to the store and EZ found himself letting his senses drag over his brother to assess him. The scent of stress, worry and something almost acidic was notable for how it hung around Angel like a cloud and made EZ want to sneeze. Someone had been very angry who’d been in direct contact with Angel’s skin—enough so the scent lingered there despite the fact that Angel had obviously showered that morning.His brother’s heart rate and breathing was slightly fast for him but not obviously so. 

The overlapping scents of Coco, the rich coffee that his brother drank every morning.Adelita’s personal scent was weaker than usual as it was overwhelmed by the acidic stench of anger and smoky rage that wasn’t noticeable unless EZ really focused as it was almost overwhelmed by the sour aftertaste of Angel’s worry that coated the back of his tongue.

All of these added up to a stressed Angel and EZ wasn’t sure if he should ask.If it was because of his rescue of his cub he wasn’t going to be very sorry for his brother. The sole encounter EZ had with Adelita made him think she was a strong female and that her scent was the one that he’d regularly smelled on Angel.

Angel had first smelled of her about a month after EZ had gotten out of Stockton. At the time he’d shrugged it off—Angel like most of the club had a lot of one offs. When Angel had continued to intermittently smell of her weeks later he’d subtly asked his brother if he was seeing anyone and Angel hadn’t really given him an answer.Instead Angel had turned it back on EZ asking if he was spiking on him and was he going to zone?

Shit.

EZ, looking back on it, shouldn’t have been so easily put off the scent (ha).

Angel now regularly smelled of Adelita and EZ had connected her scent to his brother.EZ was pretty sure the angry someone Angel had been in contact with was Adelita. Which meant Los Olividados was likely not very happy with EZ making off with his cub and the laptop.

Either way, Angel seemed somewhat attached to Adelita and that was going to cause problems for EZ given his newfound bond.Miguel and he kept putting off having an extended chat about their situation and they really needed to have it and soon—possibly with lawyers present. One of them was going to make a mistake by accident and things would implode. EZ didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.

Just when EZ thought that Angel might ask more about Miguel, he unsubtly indicated that EZ should get to work fixing the motor for the refrigerated display case. EZ couldn’t help the unimpressed glare he gave Angel who just happily started chugging down one of the sodas that Pops kept around for them.

Pulling the toolbox out, he grabbed the screwdriver he’d need to take the outer housing off the motor. Pops kept the store immaculately clean but EZ did take off his kutte as he lay sideways on the floor to get a better angle to work with.

Accepting Angel’s offer of holding the flashlight despite his brother’s middling aim, EZ quickly spun the tool in his hands to loosen the ancient screws and popped off part of the case.He then moved to the other side that needed to be loosened so he could work on the motor underneath.

The sound of the sandwich shop kid leaving had the bell over the door letting out a clanking ring—EZ should probably check to see if the clapper had chipped again and broke like it had years ago. The vague thought made his vision spike slightly—the bell had been broken two days before his mother’s death and he remembered that it hadn’t sounded right that night when he’d pursued the killer.

A second clanking ring as another customer entered made EZ jerk and the screwdriver slipped—the screw spinning out wide as it dropped and disappeared underneath the case. EZ closed his eyes to stop the spike before it got worse, trying to focus on the scent of the shop and the noise of the people within it.

He thought he’d had a handle on his senses but the brief phone call with Miguel had just highlighted how much he already needed his guide given how over sensitive he was feeling. It was like his already delicate control was straining against his senses that just wanted to dial up in search of his absent guide.

Before he could stop himself, he swept the room dialing up his hearing and scent. The familiar comforting presence of his brother and Pops... and he recognized the newest occupant.

His cousin Kevin was here—he’d likely seen the motorcycles parked out back and wanted to talk to EZ.No more avoiding the other sentinel and DEA agent as he was making sure that EZ knew he was around. The mental curse at his cousin’s impatience was silent.

“Kevin,” Pops greeted his cousin with a smile in his voice. Of course Pops would be happy that Kevin was here given he wanted Kevin and EZ to talk. For many reasons but mostly so Kevin would quit harassing him to get to EZ. “What are you wanting today?How was the roast beef?”

Kevin scuffed his feet slightly as he approached the counter and EZ could see the sole of his work boots underneath the counter. He needed to dial back—his sight was still slightly spiked and he could make out individual grains of dirt that had dried on the side of the left heel that was the same color as the dirt where he’d first recognized Miguel...

The sound of his own name jerked him out of the mini-zone that had been caused by his wandering thoughts. Kevin had purposefully used a tone with a slight hook to his voice that he’d known EZ would respond to—they’d come up with a few mini exercises for emergencies before he’d been released from Stockton.Exercises that his Pops knew about but Angel didn’t. It was a sentinel trick that only another online beta or alpha sentinel with hearing as one of their enhanced senses could use.

The explanation that Kevin had given when asked had been that it was used with very young sentinels to try and pull them out of a zone when there was no guide readily available.It was a trick the military had taught Kevin and he’d used it previously and he’d wanted a way to be able to pull EZ out of a zone if one happened at a bad time. EZ had agreed to the exercises and learned the triggers as a safety mechanism—he’d understood why Kevin saw the need for them when he’d signed the CI agreement.

Which... given that Angel was now acting dodgy and smelled wary was a good thing. Angel hadn’t noticed he’d been having issues with his senses.

Realizing that Kevin had asked a question about him, EZ sat up and climbed to his feet. Angel automatically gave him space but the glass bottle in his hand creaked from the stress of how tightly it was being clutched. Reading his brother’s mood, EZ purposefully was casual as he pretended to dust off his jeans.

“Kev.Long time no see. How are you?” EZ asked, leaning his elbows on the top of the meat case, posture relaxed and unworried.

The other sentinel’s head inclined minimally but EZ was watching for it. Kevin’s face and body language was relaxed—his cousin never talked about work much but he was good at what he did. “Good,” he remarked casually. “How have you been doing?Doing okay being out?”

Angel seemed to take offense to the simple question that wasn’t something unusual for EZ to hear. In fact he kept running into people who were surprised to see him out of prison that asked him the same question several times a week.Santo Padre wasn’t that big of a town. “He’s been fine,” he answered for EZ, voice gruff and argumentative, but Kevin didn’t look away from EZ.

EZ could see the other sentinel’s senses zeroing in on his bonding mark and the deep inhale that his cousin took was to note the change in a fellow sentinel.EZ straightened as Kevin did, mirroring the other sentinel whose eyes had widened and his nostrils flared even as he took another deep inhale and released it.

“You bonded.....” was the breathy, barely whispered response that EZ was pretty sure his brother and father wouldn’t be able to hear or if they could—understand the implications. Kevin was looking at EZ in fascination.“It was you!We could feel it.”

Giving into his instinct, EZ reached across and fisted his hand in Kevin’s shirt to pull the other sentinel over the counter and into him bodily.Kevin came willingly despite the uncomfortable stretch and his chin tilted up and to the side, allowing EZ to bury his nose where the scent was deepest at the pulse point and inhale deeply to scent the beta sentinel.EZ closed his eyes as the other sentinel submitted without a whisper of complaint, hands scratching slightly as they cradled the back of EZ’s head even as his own arms wrapped around Kevin’s chest.

Kevin’s nose was quickly tucked into EZ’s neck on the opposite side from his bonding mark as they both scented each other, inhaling deeply and calmly to mark one another’s scent and memorize it. Tongue peaking out to swipe over the skin under it, EZ added taste and then focused in on the rhythm of breath and heartbeat with his cousin following his example as if given permission by EZ’s own actions. One hand twisted up to find the nape of Kevin’s neck and his fingers gently stroked down the center groove of the neck right at the base of the skull. The delicate skin under his fingers pimpled in gooseflesh, making the other sentinel shudder as he settled and submitted to EZ as his alpha.

Angel’s interruption made both of them turn and growl at him. Luckily for Angel, Pops pulled him back. “Angel!”

Angel’s expression was thunderous and a little freaked out. “What are you doing?!?”

EZ couldn’t stop the deep growl that emitted from somewhere in his chest and rumbled upon releasing Kevin, making the beta sentinel rock back slightly on his heels before he caught himself. Struggling to find words, the desire to protect his pack had him thinking more like the wolf spirit animal than the human man. His spirit animal reappeared in the small space behind the counter and pressed against his hip, not snarling at Angel but visibly unhappy with him.

“Mijo?” Pops asked, pressing Angel behind him, putting himself between EZ and Angel.Angel seemed to belatedly realize he’d done something he shouldn’t and was staring at the spirit wolf in growing fear.“Mijo he doesn’t understand!”

“He needs to start thinking before acting,” EZ glowered at his brother, aware that Angel had been trying to act in his defense but not willing to give hm much wiggle room.

Pops opened and closed his mouth, hand bunching in Angel’s shirt as he held his eldest back. “Mijo... you need to explain. He does not understand!”

EZ huffed, his fingers digging into the ruff of his wolf who sat with a thump at his feet. Kevin had a dazed look and was silent, waiting on EZ to give him direction. “Pack,” EZ finally stated in the oppressive silence of the shop. “Kevin is pack.”

Angel, widened eyes pinging between Kevin and EZ, raised his eyebrows in question as his gaze settled on EZ.The scent of fear was subtle but there—EZ frowned as he tried to figure out what Angel was thinking.

“Pack?” Angel asked, voice breaking slightly.

EZ growled again in frustration at his brother, not liking the scent he was picking up as it soured the air. “Haven’t you learned anything about sentinels?”It wasn’t an unfair question—Angel had known for years that he might come online himself.Surely he’d at least done a bare minimum of checking into things, been curious about what might happen.

Angel’s look of embarrassment was brief before a mulish expression fixed itself on his face but the scent strengthened rather than receding.What was Angel scared of? “Why?It’s not like I’ve come online and I’m old enough that it’s unlikely!”

Kevin snorted, unimpressed with Angel’s lack of curiosity. “Your brother came online—statistically you’re actually more likely to come online. You’re not that old,” he informed Angel drily.

Angel crossed his arms over his chest, thrusting his chin out stubbornly and scowling. “No I’m not.”

Tension broken somewhat, EZ also crossed his arms and rolled his eyes at Angel’s obstinacy. “No—Kevin’s right. You are still more likely to come online at some point in your life than not.”

EZ repeating the fact seemed to crack Angel’s facade. “Really?But I’m in my thirties... they said if I didn’t come online before now that it wasn’t likely.”

“Who said?” EZ countered.

Angel’s scent flared with embarrassment and there was a slight red discoloration on his cheeks and neck. “The center—when I talked to them after your trial.”

“What exactly did they say?” Kevin prodded in curiosity with his head cocked. “That’s not exactly accurate given you have a sibling that is online and your father was at some point in his life.”

Angel’s betrayed look at their father said he was unaware of the fact that Pops had been online and then become inactive.EZ had never asked his Pops about it given his experience in the sentinel ward and Raul’s advice not to pry unless he wanted to hear something likely unpleasant.Pops had always been pretty reticent about talking about life back in Mexico before he’d come to Santo Padre...

Swearing under his breath, Angel shifted on his feet. “They said that with EZ only coming online the way he did—with Mom’s death—that it’d take something big to push me over and it wasn’t likely.”

Kevin frowned. “It’s not like that,” he said with a sigh, rubbing a hand over his hair, flattening it. “Not like that at all. Who said that?Just because EZ came online that way doesn’t mean you can’t with something less traumatic.”

EZ snorted in agreement when Angel looked at him for confirmation and crossed his arms over his chest. “Just because trauma can force you online doesn’t mean it’s the only way. And the reason why most sentinels come online before age thirty is because a lot of us regress by age fifty especially if we don’t find our guide.You can still come online at age eighty.”

Angel looked stunned by the news—EZ could almost see the wheels turning in his brother’s head. “Really? You mean I could still...” he trailed off.

“Yes you could still come online,” Kevin stated with finality. “Really.”

“Oh...” Angel’s gaze dropped to the floor and landed on the wolf that now had it’s tongue lolling out and yawned at the lack of excitement. “I get one of those?”

The bark of laughter that escaped EZ surprised even him.“Pretty sure if you have a spirit animal, it’s going to be some sort of cat.”

“Definitely a cat,” Kevin agreed which made even Pops chuckle.Angel had always been a cat person even when they were kids while EZ had been a dog person.They’d had neither growing up despite their badgering of their parents.

EZ’s wolf gave another toothy yawn and then disappeared with a headbutt into EZ’s hip that made him stagger slightly.

“So what was that,” Angel bit out after watching the wolf disappear like magic, wanting to divert the attention and waved his hand between EZ and Kevin. “You’ve already got a guide and he’s a sentinel—aren't you?”

Licking his lips, EZ debated how to phrase this and Kevin met his eyes asking if he should explain.Shaking his head at Kevin, EZ waved his hand between his beta and himself. “Kevin’s pack,” he started.

“Pack?” Angel interrupted, frowning and the smoky tint of jealousy wafted from him. The term hadn’t been clarified earlier as to what exactly EZ meant when he claimed Kevin as pack. Angel wasn’t going to be happy when he learned that EZ’s pack now included Miguel and Cris as well as Angel and Pops.

“Pack.” EZ blew out a breath, settling slightly at the pulse of strength he got down the bond from Miguel which made him really wonder what Miguel was doing that he wasn’t getting a load of concern from his guide. The sense of curiosity was there but his guide was distracted and concentrating on something else.“You know that strong sentinels have groups around them—sometimes called prides but since i have a wolf... the term pack sounds better to me.”

The noise of agreement from Kevin was encouraging. “Pack.”

EZ eyed Kevin for a moment.The sense he got off of Kevin was that he also had a spirit animal of the canine persuasion but it was faint like a ghost. “The group that forms around strong sentinels—alphas—usually includes family like you and Pops but it also includes other sentinels and guides—betas or weaker.”EZ had mentally also included Nestor in his pack due to the man’s relationship to his guide despite the fact that he normally wouldn’t have been as a C class.

Kevin had picked up the other sentinel’s scent and nodded when Angel’s questioning look landed on him. “We’re pack.”

“Because you’re our cousin?” Angel asked, tone doubtful.

“Not exactly,” EZ hedged. He sensed that Kevin would be pack to him even if they weren’t related on their father’s side. While Kevin was a beta class sentinel he just appealed strongly to EZ on another level that he really couldn’t explain.

“And I’m pack? Pops is pack?What about the rest of the Mayans? Anyone else in this pack?”

Good question. “You and Pops are pack,” EZ offered. 

Angel’s eyes narrowed. “And your guide. Whoever she is.”

Kevin cleared his throat noisily, hiding a cough.He obviously could tell that EZ’s guide was male by scent. “Yes his guide is pack,” Kevin stated neutrally when everyone stared at him.

“So anyone can be pack?” Angel’s eyes narrowed at Kevin.

EZ shrugged. “It’s whatever feels right.But what you need to know is that you are part of my pack Angel... but if you come online and you’re an alpha that might complicate things.”

“What is this alpha-beta business?”

Kevin and EZ exchanged another look. “It has to do with the strength of the sentinel or guide. Beta class means you have at least three senses that you can dial up,” Kevin started.

“They only teach this once you come online,” EZ added at Angel’s displeased frown. “Alphas are the strongest of sentinels—all five senses and they form packs around them.”

“So which of you is an alpha?” Was the predictable next question.

“I am,” EZ said with a huff. “Evidently I am,” he corrected. “I wasn’t sure.”

This got a frown from Kevin. “You didn’t know? I thought you knew...”

“Why would he know?” Angel asked, frustration bleeding into his voice before he pivoted to look at EZ with curiosity.“Why do you avoid all other sentinels? Is it a territory thing?”

EZ would have rather not opened that can of worms but he knew avoiding the question since he’d not completely answered the previous one would likely get him punched. “Because to them I’m considered a stained sentinel.It’s awkward and I’d rather not have them be assholes to me for it.”

Pops face fell at the word “stained” while Kevin’s lips twisted in distaste. Angel, realizing he was missing something prodded harder. “Stained? What’s that?”

“Exactly what it sounds like.Since I killed that cop as my first online action it makes me ...” EZ searched for a word that would be accurate yet not upset his brother or father further.

“Stained by the taint of that which you did—that’s the official slang terminology definition,” Kevin finished.The glower that Angel shot him was defensive and made EZ warm to his brother a bit more even as Kevin held his hands up to show he wasn’t being harsh on purpose. “Official slang definition.It’s bullshit really.”

“There’s nothing wrong with EZ!” Angel insisted, hand moving through the air and prodding into Kevin’s chest as he moved closer and around Pops who had stopped resisting. “Stop implying that my brother is dirty or whatever.”

Kevin growled at the poke and snatched at Angel’s hand to brush it away, spine straightening to his full height but still an inch or so shorter than Angel. EZ’s money was still on Kevin if it came to blows but he wasn’t going to tell Angel that. 

“No—he’s an alpha.Alpha’s don’t attract a guide like his if they’re abominations.” Angel snarled louder and Kevin got right in his face as he continued. “Yeah—abomination. That’s what stained really means but your brother—my alpha—isn’t that. Truly stained sentinels are just wrong. They feel wrong. They are wrong. They murder and kill for pleasure. They take without mercy. That’s not my alpha.Stained sentinels don’t form packs. They are incapable of bonding with a guide—it’s usually why they become stained in the first place.”

Angel looked at EZ for support, perhaps understanding that a pack bonded beta like Kevin was going to be very hard to take down. “He’s right,” EZ said instead, leaning into the counter in sudden tiredness at all of this. He was about done with explaining himself for the day and it wasn’t even noon. “Or at least I don’t feel stained to me...”

“Anyone calls you that and I’ll—“ Angel was in danger of starting to rant but was cut off by Kevin.

“Don’t say anything I’d have to arrest you for,” Kevin warned as he cut Angel off before sighing and looking at EZ with curiosity.“Where is your guide?You haven’t been bonded long enough...”

“We had stuff we both needed to do,” EZ didn’t want to give a long explanation and he could see Kevin was letting him off when he didn’t rephrase and push—likely because Angel didn’t seem to know much. “Being gone for a few days made more than a few people annoyed.”

“I can see that,” Kevin said, eyeing Angel out of the corner of his eye.

Pops spoke up. “You need time.Kevin can return in a day or two?”

Yeah there was no way that Kevin was going to stay away that long and EZ knew it.However he needed to talk to Kevin without his brother being here. “I’ll call you?” EZ offered to Kevin.

Kevin, already showing why he was an ideal second, nodded. “Don’t let it go too long,” he warned. 

The look in Kevin’s eyes said that he had something he needed to discuss with EZ—something important. “I won’t,” EZ promised his second.

“You came for something?” Pops asked Kevin, diverting the conversation back towards normalcy.

Kevin asked his father for some sliced roast beef and some of the spicy sausage that Pops made. As Pops moved around them to get Kevin his order, EZ ignored Angel who still didn’t look completely happy. Kevin didn’t linger long but when he accepted his order, he held out his hand to EZ who clasped his own around his beta’s wrist and gave it a small squeeze. “Tomorrow or the next day,” Kevin whispered and then he was gone out the door with a clang of the broken bell.

There was a moment of silence before Angel asked, seemingly nonchalant but really anything but given how sour his scent went with worry, “So how is it you’re going to work being a member of a motorcycle club and having a DEA agent hang around?”

“Very carefully,” EZ grumbled and diverted Angel’s attention away.“So are you going to help with fixing this motor or are you just going to give unhelpful comments?”

Angel snorted in laughter. “I think I’ll just keep holding the flashlight for your poor eyes—don’t tell me you can’t see because I won’t believe you!”

As EZ crouched down to return to fiddling with the motor he knew that Angel hadn’t really dropped anything.He was just biding his time until Pops wasn’t around to hear any of it.

EZ really was very good at creating more problems for himself.

***

Half an hour later, EZ had discovered a small tear in a belt that was causing the rattle in the motor that Pops had noticed. Before EZ could offer to run to the hardware store and get a few moments alone to call Kevin, Pops had ordered Angel to do it since he wasn’t being very helpful with his flashlight holding. Angel had been keeping up light banter and teasing questions about EZ’s guide that were targeted at the wrong sex and had maybe said just the wrong thing as a pair of young females had entered the shop to make a purchase.

This had earned a sharp word from Pops and a roll of their father’s eyes at Angel’s antics.Angel may have playfully kicked EZ in the shin for not warning him who was coming in now that he’d clued in that EZ had pretty good range and control. 

The gears were turning in his brother’s head and EZ knew his days of not telling Angel exactly what he could sense were probably gone now that he suspected EZ could do a lot more than he had been. Angel had left after a brief protest but he wouldn’t be gone very long—maybe only a half hour or so.

Pops waited until the customers left before giving a sigh that sounded like it came from the depths of his soul as he leaned against the back counter. When he looked at EZ who’d grabbed an orange soda, the lines of concern on his Pop’s face were deep and made him appear even older than usual.Pops smelled exhausted and worried.“Mijo...”

“It’ll be okay Pops,” EZ tried to reassure him.

Pops expression didn’t improve. “You haven’t told him.”

“Not yet,” EZ plead. “He won’t take it well.”

“Not telling him will only make it worse,” Pops scolded.

“You don’t know everything but trust me when I say Angel finding out right now would make things worse. So much worse,” EZ muttered the last bit to himself as he finished his soda, savoring the fizz and artificial orange flavoring as he tried not to think about Los Olividados, Adelita and Angel’s plan to get financial independence.

The soda’d been his favorite since he’d been a little kid and Pops had always made sure there was some here for him.Orange for EZ, cherry for Angel. It was nice that Pops still catered to them and had it around so they could raid the fridge even though it’d been too many years since they’d worked in the store after school.

Pops was studying him, eyes critical as they watched. For several moments he didn’t say anything but when he did it was barely above a whisper. “You are an alpha... make your choices matter Mijo. You only get one chance to do things right.”

That reminder was like a stab to the chest. Do the right thing... EZ had spent too much time in Stockton thinking about what the right thing was and wondering how he’d spun so out of control in one moment that it had wrecked his future. Well the future he’d originally planned. His current state and future hopes had changed drastically in the last few days.

He mentally reached out to Miguel and just checked in on his guide through their bond. The sense of intense concentration was similar to earlier but there was an edge of frustration to it. Maybe his guide was talking with the lawyers?Or something else equally frustrating.

When Miguel noticed EZ’s attention, he gave a small tug back down the bond that warmed EZ and pushed the fear and doubt his Pops’ words had generated away. EZ wanted to cling to the fragile threads of the bond but knew that he couldn’t spend all day just pining for his guide. He had work to do.

“Go get lunch,” his Pops instructed, shooing him out the door. “Those sandwich boys owe me a few so go get them.”

“Yes Pops,” EZ agreed, slinking towards the door. “Your usual?”

“Yes.”

***

An hour later and EZ had the belt replaced and his stomach was full of a too dry sandwich and more orange soda.Angel had returned with the spare part but then split almost immediately—sayin that he had something to do but telling EZ to get his ass back to the club when he was done.EZ doubted that Bishop had actually sent Angel after him but he knew he needed to get to the meeting with Miguel somehow and relay the message to Bishop. 

Stepping out into the back alley, he wasn’t surprised to see Kevin leaning against the wall in the shade next to EZ’s bike. “Kev,” EZ greeted.

Kevin’s gaze was heavy, a line of worry across his brow as his arms tightened on his biceps making the tendons stand out in the muscular forearms and his watch face to catch the sunlight and send a reflection that briefly distracted EZ enough that he shook his head to reset his sight. “You’re keeping secrets from your brother,” Kevin observed, voice velvet soft as he tried to see if EZ was having sensory issues, scent heavy with worry.

EZ rolled his eyes, mouth twisting in annoyance. “No more than usual.”

The exasperated puff of air was familial and fond. “EZ,” Kevin layered so much into EZ’s name. It was cajoling, reprimand and worry all wrapped up in his name. Kevin was pack and it pulled as the beta’s scent twisted with emotional concern for his alpha. Worry for EZ—which was disconcerting as EZ was unsure what to do now that he had a beta. The mantel of being pack alpha itched as he felt it’s presence and the wolf that seemed to be just under his skin twisted, wanting to comfort their packmate.

Shifting his weight, EZ rubbed a hand across the back of his neck before fisting his hands in his kutte as he tried not to look too guilty and buried his first instinctual reaction as being too animalistic.Kevin would balk at physical contact for the discussion they needed to have. “My guide...”

“Your **male** guide,” Kevin gently corrected him, eyes softening and a small smile curling on his lips in silent congratulation.Kevin wasn’t letting him off for not correcting Angel but the sense EZ got from him was supportive and nonjudgmental. As a sentinel, Kevin understood that you didn’t choose your guide with the connection strength that EZ had with Miguel.

When EZ had asked, Kevin’s scent had been depressed when he’d admitted to not having found a successful guide to bond with. Kevin was a strong enough sentinel that he felt the guide pull just as EZ had and it had created a sense of brotherhood between them before EZ had pulled Kevin to him as beta just now. Kevin wasn’t like Miguel—he didn’t have a spot in his brain that pulled constantly but he wasn’t an irritant like Nestor had been until Nestor had submitted. Instead, Kevin felt like another limb—supportive yet still independent. Kevin was a natural second to EZ and it was weird yet perfect how he clicked that spot in EZ’s senses whereas Angel was a constant worry.

The difference was that Kevin was somewhat predictable in a reliable, law-abiding sort of way. Angel... made other choices like Adelita that made EZ want to shake him and plead for better, less dangerous choices.

Glaring at Kevin, EZ waited to continue until Kevin waved his hand to encourage him.All of this wasn’t easy to talk about.. “My guide is...” EZ licked his lips. “You’re not going to like this?”

Kevin’s small smile disappeared and a frown took it’s place, scent sharpening as the other Sentinel’s hackles were raised which made EZ want to soothe his beta.Shifting uneasily, EZ mentally touched the spot where Miguel was rooted, taking strength from it and waiting for Kevin to speak.

“You’re my alpha,” Kevin stated, obviously trying to figure out what EZ was trying to tell him, body language uncertain as he shifted his weight uncomfortably.

“And you’re a DEA agent,” EZ returned, tone picking up a bleak edge. He firmed his hold on the bond, trying to not fidget under Kevin’s assessing gaze.

Kevin’s eyes widened, nostrils flaring as he took a deep inhale off EZ and his eyes slipping to half mast as he analyzed the scent. Two seconds passed before Kevin’s eyes were again widened and looking at EZ like he was an alien, a shudder moving through the beta sentinel. “He’s a guide?” Was the confused question.

“Miguel Galindo is my guide,” EZ confirmed, trying not to wince as Kevin’s scent changed rapidly. Worry. Fear. Confusion. All negative emotions but there was still the undercurrent of congratulations that made it all muddled and chaotic. The confused look on Kevin’s face matched his scent even as the other sentinel tensed and then began to pace in the small space between EZ and his bike.

As he paced, Kevin kept darting glances at EZ and he opened his mouth several times to speak but only frustrated noises came out rather than words. The tense shoulders and ramrod straight back asKevin paced wasn’t comforting but the conflict in the other sentinel’s scent made EZ give him time to think before he said anything further.

“I.... how could.... how much danger are you in?” Was finally the question that Kevin asked, his hands griping tight on his own biceps as he stilled, body tensed as if to accept a blow.It was obvious that Kevin feared for his alpha’s safety and was bracing himself for bad news—EZ momentarily struggled with how to explain without sharing the absolute soul-deep certainty that he could feel that Miguel was not a danger to him or any he considered pack but was instead his partner, his mate in all things.

“From my guide?None.Miguel is my guide and I am his sentinel,” EZ stated calmly, projecting his certainty as much as he could and seeing the way Kevin’s shoulders didn’t immediately relax he continued. “He... I couldn’t not tell him the basics of my release from Stockton.”

Kevin inhaled so quick it was almost a whistle and tensed for a moment before finally relaxing slightly. “He knows? Miguel Galindo knows that you were released early in order to be an informant for the DEA into his drug running operations?”

EZ nodded. “He knows... and I’m... we haven’t discussed it fully but he knows things have to change now that I’m his sentinel. I—“ EZ paused, debating internally how much to tell his beta but then decided that Kevin had to be persuaded to his side or he’d regret it later. “I think he was already going to try and take all his businesses in a legitimate direction but we haven’t talked explicitly about it.”

“What do you mean?” Kevin asked, still listening intently to his alpha.

“I mean that most of his business dealings are legitimate and legal. The impression I get is that the drug stuff is something that’s still left over from his father and—while he needs the cash flow it isn’t what he’s working on expanding.If anything... the amounts the Mayans are moving have been slowing down to almost a trickle. That’s why Angel...”

EZ cut himself off, realizing why Angel was so gung-ho about getting into a different trafficking scheme. The amount of drugs the Mayans had been moving had steadily declined in the months that EZ had been out—so much so that Angel had noticed the drop in revenue for the club as secretary who handled some of the finances.

Had Angel talked with the rest of the patched in members about this?EZ didn’t get that impression. His brother occasionally displayed emotional intelligence and EZ didn’t get the impression that Bishop would welcome any action that harmed their relationship with Miguel as Alvarez had formed the Mayans based on that relationship with Miguel’s father Jose.

Bishop would have shot Angel’s attempt to suggest an alternative trafficking route down immediately—he wouldn’t have had to ask the other club members and El Padrino would step in to make sure that the relationship with the Galindo Cartel was protected as it was so long standing of an alliance. Had Angel even asked?Bishop and Alvarez weren’t stupid but sometimes, EZ realized, his brother was one.

Bishop was likely going to suspect Angel rather quickly if they continued to have issues with their deliveries. Mentally swearing, EZ realized how much of an idiot his brother was being and the fear that Angel was going to get killed because he was sleeping with Adelita was strong.

Shit.

Kevin had been silently waiting while EZ had his mini-revelation into how much of an idiot plan his brother was working. “EZ?” Was the soft call, the sub vocals thick with concern.

Swallowing against the knot lodged now in his throat, EZ rubbed a hand over his face and then gripped the back of his neck as he met Kevin’s eyes. “I’ve been trying to keep Angel out of my deal...”

Kevin’s forehead had deep furrows as the scent of worry intensified and his arms looked tense enough to bend steel. “I know. And I haven’t pushed because he’s family....”

“I think... I think I need to get you and Miguel in the same room,” EZ licked his lips, trying to think and talk at the same time. “The DEA should be happy if Miguel’s getting out of the business—he’s not his father. I need to know that my Guide and Angel are both protected.I can’t... you can’t ask me to inform on Miguel. The Sentinel-Guide laws...”

“Are better than spousal privilege when it comes to coerced testimony—it would cover you back from your release from Stockton since you were a verified online sentinel and Miguel wasn’t. No federal court would be able to force testimony from you against your guide,” Kevin finished, a thoughtful look crossing his face and smoothing some of the worry lines. “You said he’s cleaning his father’s business up?”

“I think so—yes.”

“Then...” Kevin gave a heavy sigh, scent thoughtful but still full of worry for EZ. “I think I need to talk to your Miguel.As your second and as a DEA agent.”

“Yeah,” EZ agreed. This was such a tangled mess.

“What about your brother?Is Angel going to?”

“Angel... I hope he forgives me someday,” EZ bleakly confessed, aware he was showing on his face how well he thought any of this was going to go with Angel. 

Kevin’s scent again darkened with worry for EZ but it felt like a warm blanket that covered him protectively even as Kevin stood at attention, eyes full of promise. “He... I will do what I can to keep him out of trouble.I’m promising you that as your beta sentinel.”

Recognizing the importance of Kevin’s promise, EZ straightened up and clasped his right hand around Kevin’s left bicep. “That is all I can ask of you. Just please don’t take any actions you don’t have to Kev.Angel isn’t going to... he’s not a bad man. I need to figure out how to convince him to work with me and stop what he’s doing.”

Kevin nodded, his hand coming up to encircle EZ’s wrist where it still held his bicep. “Yes Alpha,” he whispered, scent smelling like ice cold metal as he made a promise to EZ.

EZ reached out and found his palm curling around the beta sentinel’s neck as he extended it in submission, allowing EZ to scent him again. Kevin’s muscles relaxed as he inhaled, taking in again the specific scent of his beta—piñon pine, ocean salt, male musk and—when he chased it—the undertones of the faint sweetness of prickly pear fruit and nopales. Stretching his own neck, he allowed Kevin to burry his own nose in the angle of his neck and scent him too, arms coming up to rest on EZ’s hips as his body weight rested against his alpha in complete submission.

Carding his fingers through his beta’s short hair, he could feel the flutter of eyelashes against his skin as Kevin went completely pliant against him.EZ had to wrap his free hand around Kevin’s back to support him and he rubbed his cheek against the skin below it which made the beta hum in pleasure.The feeling that overtook him was similar to his childhood memories—the peace, comfort and sense of family was strong.

Miguel seemed to sense something was up and EZ could feel his guide checking with him more strongly now, reaching for and through EZ to sense Kevin. EZ let it happen and felt the shudder that went through Kevin’s body as Miguel reached through him to examine the other sentinel. To mark and know him which made Kevin gasp once as he shook once and then stilled. The caress of approval from the bond was strong and EZ found himself smiling. 

“I think my guide approves,” EZ whispered just below Kevin’s ear.

The bark of laughter that escaped the other sentinel was both joyful as well as startled. “He’s so strong... I mean.... I think we all knew a strong guide had come online,” Kevin said as he pulled back reluctantly, arms falling to his side before shaking his head to clear it.“So strong.”

EZ bit his lips to prevent the huge smile at the positive mention of his guide. “To me he’s just my guide,” he deflected.

Kevin snorted at him. “Have him get in contact with me... maybe tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” EZ promised back.“Don’t get in trouble in the meantime.”

Arching an eyebrow, Kevin laughed again but it was much more relaxed this time. “I’m not the one running with an outlaw motorcycle gang.”

Sniffling in fake offense, EZ joked back. “It’s motorcycle club. For enthusiasts.”

“Yes. Who are enthusiastic about being beyond the reach of the law.”

“Among other things,” EZ allowed with good humor, watching Kevin start to reluctantly drag his feet to leave.Brow lowering, EZ couldn’t help but be concerned for the other sentinel.Kevin was going to be in a tough spot for a while and he was the cause. “Be careful out there Kevin.

“Yes alpha,” Kevin said with a mock salute. “You too.”

“Tomorrow!”

“Tomorrow—text me to let me know where and when.”

And with a wave his beta was gone—off to get back to whatever a DEA agent did all day. Sighing, EZ mounted his motorcycle and turned to get back to the club.He had a meeting to arrange with Bishop.

***

_XII. Miguel_

After escorting Nestor out with their tech AJ, Miguel had only a brief moment to himself in his office before his first, and only, home appointment arrived. Whatever EZ was up to could only be given a cursory examination before his attention was pulled away although he did note that there was some other sentinel involved. His appointment was with his personal lawyer, Esteban Osorio.

Having mostly filled in Esteban, Miguel was getting tired of answering the same questions over and over. Each time, they were slightly reworded to see if he would give new information or change his story.This method of drawing out information was something that he usually appreciated—this thoroughness—but right now it was just making him tired and he ached for his sentinel’s presence in his bones such was the longing. “Esteban,” he growled, “get to the point.I have a meeting in thirty minutes.”

Esteban, also known as Steven to those who didn’t know him since they were toddlers, Osorio had been an old classmate of Miguel’s and Nestor who had chosen to go into the family business of law rather than business school.Esteban’s father Emmanuel had been Miguel’s father’s lawyer and—to a small extent—was Miguel’s as well. However, the junior partner had been the one available when Nestor had alerted them that Miguel needed to meet emergently.

Normally, Esteban was put together and cool. Right now? He’d loosened his tie and kept pulling at his blonde hair making it stick up on one side and there were stress lines around the steel gray colored eyes. “Mikey... you’re sure you want to stick with this sentinel?”

Miguel let his feet fall to the floor from where he’d had them propped up on the corner of his desk, leaning forward over his elbows to glare at his longtime friend. “He is non-negotiable.”

Esteban’s eyes closed as his mouth twisted as he thought, chewing on his lower lip.When he opened his eyes, the sharp analytical look that Miguel paid him for was at work. “I assumed as much.I’m going to need to see the agreement he signed with the DEA to know which statutes we’ll need to use to challenge it or if we’re better off filing an appeal against the original case. Luckily the prenuptial agreement has the required guide-release verbiage and it’s not been successfully challenged in the state of California since the passing of the Sentinel/Guide Codes.”

“So...?” Miguel asked, leaning forward and rubbing his temple with one hand.His headache was slightly worse given how long he’d been separated from EZ.

Esteban quirked an eyebrow. “It means that if you decide to execute your prenup that you’ll be in good financial position.My understanding is that most guides do end up only with their sentinels....?”

There was a tiny twinge of regret that he didn’t feel bad about how easily it would be to separate himself from Emily but it was mostly overwhelmed by the thought of being only with EZ.Internally, Miguel marveled at how much his priorities had changed within just a few days but externally he was already putting in motion everything he’d need to do to further those priorities. He’d always prided himself in following though with his decisions but even for him he was starting to move faster than usual.

He wasn’t going to ask Emily for a divorce—he’d leave that up to her—but he couldn’t see her tolerating a third person in their marriage. Even if it was the same man she’d been flirting with stepping out on him with. It was poetic justice that EZ was his sentinel in a round about, very messed up way. He supposed that it just meant Emily and he had very similar taste which, he could admit, he found darkly humorous.

He still loved her... but it had changed fundamentally upon his bonding to EZ. She would always be Cris’ mom and someone he dearly cared about.He did want her to be happy—even if he was pretty sure he wouldn’t be making her happy as a husband in the same way he had previously.

In a way, he thought he should be mourning the way that his response to her had changed—he’d just begun realizing it earlier when she’d slapped him but he’d had a few minutes to think since then. When he thought about her now, instead of focusing on her seductive pout or the way she had of trailing her fingers down his arm to tease him and inflame his interest—none of that did anything for him when he thought about it. He could, objectively say that she was a beautiful woman but... she did nothing for him physically now. That part of him seemed utterly uninterested in anything that didn’t come in an EZ-shaped package.

That wasn’t to say that he still didn’t care if she was happy or not.He knew she was going to see his bonding to EZ as a betrayal on both his and EZ’s part.Emily had always been the one who left in her previous relationships before she’d dated and married. They’d had a brief breakup right towards the end of his graduate school but they’d mutually (or at least he thought so) reconciled and been going strong until now....

“The way the bond works?There’s very little room for others from a romantic or of a sexual nature.” He paused, gathering the right words as Esteban looked on in patient curiosity.“I will not ask Emily for a divorce but if she wants one she can have it.”

“Your sentinel is that big a pull?After only what? Three days?” Esteban cupped his chin in one hand, pen hesitating as he made another note on the legal pad without looking down. Miguel could feel Esteban’s curiosity like an itch across his skin that tickled, both friendly and intensely focused.

“He is.” Miguel knew he wouldn’t change his mind. EZ was too deep in his psyche already to change course now even if he wanted to try. Miguel could feel EZ’s own possessiveness and it matched his own perfectly, each tendril reflected back in perfect symmetry. In fact, the tug of EZ’s own want and possessiveness made his more voracious, feeding into the hungry want for his sentinel that burned continuously.

“You’re sure Mikey?” Esteban asked, concerned with his pen held frozen as he waited for an answer, the light tug of worry like an aftertaste in the air between them.

“I am Stevie,” Miguel answered calmly which got a small quirk of a grin out of his friend at the old nickname that was rarely used anymore as well as the faint feeling of sun shining out from behind the clouds on a rainy spring day. “Should I warn Raquel?”

“Oh I’ll take care of that,” Esteban said with a snort of amusement that tickled almost as it rolled through Miguel. “She might even invite your EZ over for dinner more than once a year.” 

It was an ongoing joke between them that Raquel—Esteban’s wife—hadn’t got on with Emily and only got the once a year invite for her infamous dinners and only under protest.Raquel had met Esteban their first day of freshman year in college and they’d been rock solid since day one.Emily had tried to set Esteban up with one of her sorority sisters their senior year when she’d started dating Miguel and Raquel had never forgiven her.Raquel would likely adore EZ on principle alone.

Miguel liked to think she’d like him for other reasons more than just not being Emily.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Miguel mentally touched the bond like the lodestone it was, drawing strength from it.He’d be seeing EZ soon. Soon. Not now.He needed to finish with Esteban first so their future could be assured.

“Do you need anything else?”

Esteban’s forehead wrinkled in thought and he chewed on the end of his pen as he thought. After a moment his gaze met Miguel’s and he shook it, the steady feel of his resolve comforting in it’s steadiness.“No... I have enough to get started. I do need to discuss things with your sentinel in person though—tomorrow if you’re able.I’m going to pull what I can publicly before I start filing for records.”

Miguel blew out the breath he’d been holding slowly, relieved to hear that Esteban seemed confident. “Thanks Stevie.”

That got him a smile and the itch of concentration surrounding his friend quieted before the general sense of bonhomie that Miguel naturally associated with Esteban became more prominent. “Anytime Mikey.”

Scoffing at the nickname and rolling his eyes, Miguel let the use of his old nickname have it’s intended effect. Esteban always had been the peacekeeper of their group growing up while Miguel had been the ringleader with Nestor playing muscle. They’d had a few other friends that had drifted away once they’d hit high school and college but the core trio had remained intact.

“Tomorrow,” Miguel promised. He’d make sure EZ met with Esteban.

Esteban quickly packed up his notes and shoved them into the messenger bag he used instead of a briefcase. “Don’t get in any trouble before tomorrow,” he teased with a wave of his hand.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Miguel snarkily replied with a smile. “But if I do I’ll call you.”

Laughing, Esteban slung the bag over his shoulder and walked out with Miguel.

Outside the study, Nestor was lounging in the hallway trying to appear like he’d been about to join them.Nestor wasn’t really being subtle in his acting like a sentry—he was taking EZ’s orders seriously Miguel noted.The looks exchanged between his two old friends wasn’t unnoticed by Miguel but he didn’t say anything. The burr of feeling on the back of his neck was warm and familial—his friends were just being protective. It would be interesting to see how Esteban reacted to meeting EZ.

“Ready to go?” Nestor simply asked.

“Yes. Let’s just see Esteban out.”

“Steven,” was the call from the living room as they passed it’s entrance. “I didn’t know Miguel had business with you.”

Esteban stopped and arched an eyebrow at Miguel. “Emily,” he called as he reversed course to enter the living room. “How are you feeling?”

Emily had wrapped herself in blankets again to remake her nest.His tesoro was asleep in her arms and the TV was on low—some home makeover show that she typically watched. Emily looked disheveled like she’d just awoken, her skin sallow but the frown she’d had earlier was absent. “Better,” she said quietly, her gaze on Cris as one finger traced his brow ridge with a feather-light touch. “Much better.”

“Good to hear,” Esteban told her, his eyes soft as they landed on his godson and the pulse of familial love towards Miguel’s cub was soothing. Esteban had three children with Raquel and Miguel was godfather to all three of them.As a single child, Esteban had always wanted to have a big family growing up and he’d been chuffed when Miguel had asked him to be his Tesoro’s godfather.

“He’s asleep or I’d let you hold him,” Emily’s smile was warm and relaxed, the love she was projecting at their son comforting and sure. The way that she had Cris curled into her breast, his face resting against her chest with a small spot of drool on the expensive silk fabric was ignored as she twisted around her son.When her gaze landed on Miguel it became assessing, a dark look flitting behind it that pinged on Miguel’s radar as it needled him. “What were you visiting with Miguel about?”

“Just some details,” Miguel answered from the doorway he was leaning against. He didn’t want Emily angrier than she had been earlier. They’d have time to fight with each other later—Cris was asleep and she deserved to have some quiet time with him before he upset her more.

“What kind of details?” Emily pressed, sensing secrets and unhappy about it based on the way the air chilled slightly around her.

“The kind that we can talk about later,” Miguel signaled that they weren’t going to talk about it right now and he could see the moment she decided to let it go for now but the rumble of suppressed questions itched irritatingly at the back of his neck. “Esteban?”

Esteban gave a look of regret to Emily and then rejoined Miguel.As they were leaving, Emily called, “You will tell me later?”

“Later,” Miguel offered dismissively, blocking anything further by reinforcing his shields.“I’ll be back later.”

“Where are you going?” The prickle at the back of his neck intensified and he further doubled down on his shielding

“Out for business meeting.” He projected nonchalance with a sense of dismissiveness that Emily had to be able to feel but he couldn’t tell if it affected her as she was distracted by a small noise Cris made as he stretched out in his sleep.

Taking advantage of her distraction, he made to leave. The spike in irritation was hard to miss even as he took a few steps away but Emily didn’t call out for him to return so he kept going to make his exit.

At some point, he wasn’t going to be able to keep delaying the fight he knew was coming... but at least for now he could. 

***

The drive out to the meeting spot was silent—Nestor simply getting in the front seat while Miguel rode in back. The silence was comforting and Miguel pretended not to notice the frequent looks Nestor shot him through the rear view mirror or the general sense of concern that emanated from his friend.

Entering the industrial district, Nestor took random turns to make sure they weren’t followed. Making a game of it, Miguel began—for lack of a better term—scanning each car thatcame within his range which was several blocks. Mostly he got the impression of people preoccupied with their everyday work but there was almost a flavor to each person’s mental and emotional information that was unique.

For instance—Nestor just felt like a security blanket. Well loved, familiar and barely noticeable other than it was a constant awareness for Miguel. Contrasting his old friend with the random occupants with the cars was an interesting exercise and distracted him from the anxiety of the upcoming meeting.

The steady sense of coming closer to EZ was noticeable through the bond as the pull between them increased in strength as the distance shortened. The steady thrumming beat of his own heart seemed to pulse in time and Miguel could feel how EZ was waiting, the patient crouch of a predator awaiting him but instead of death and danger it was of patient longing.Of expectation.

Just the short separation had been too long.Too soon—but unfortunately it wasn’t going to get any easier just because Miguel wanted it so.EZ’s situation and his own wouldn’t just solve themselves without some work and finesse.

Closing his eyes as the motor hummed, taking him closer to his sentinel, his breath caught in his throat at the sense of longing. EZ had talked of... what had he called it? Guide hunger?It seemed that he had the matched counterpart of that—sentinel hunger. Want wasn’t a strong enough word. Now that they were coming closer again the sense of hunger was almost overwhelming.

EZ was calling to him like a siren and as the distance between them slipped away he found himself submerged in the sense of anticipation, of eagerness through the bond from his sentinel. He could almost feel each individual thought from EZ—they weren’t even yet on the same street but Miguel could feel the phantom vibration of the motorcycle between his sentinel’s thighs, the smell of burning gasoline and hot rubber of the wheels, the caress of air across skin as EZ turned and then slowed at the meeting place and the sudden silence as a trio of motorcycle engines were turned off.

Miguel couldn’t help the small smile that spread across his face even as he opened his eyes to the dim interior of the SUV. EZ was waiting for him with Bishop and Marcus Alvarez. The ticking of the turn signal as Nestor drove was loud and within five minutes they had arrived.

Waiting until Nestor had turned off the engine, Miguel stepped out of the vehicle makingNestor swear under his breath as he hurried to keep up. Casting about with his newfound guide senses, Miguel didn’t feel anyone within range that was paying attention to them and he resettled his suit coat on his shoulders as a way of stalling as he felt about, head cocked as if listening.

They were outside a storage unit warehouse that was owned by a subsidiary of Miguel’sregular businesses. Mainly it was fairly deserted at this time of day given it was a weekday and was used mainly by the residents of Santo Padre for household items. Nestor muttered something under his breath but it wasn’t important so Miguel ignored it.

The impatient tug along the bond was EZ’s way of telling him to hurry up.

He chuckled lightly before making for the main office that was located at the corner of the building where EZ was waiting and he could now sense the other three men.Bishop was easily identifiable and the steady presence next to him must be Marcus. Both men felt calm but there was an edge of curiosity, of inquiry to both of them.Marcus felt... like an almost guide but not. It was difficult to describe, almost like Miguel didn’t yet have the words to define what Marcus was.

This was going to be interesting.

EZ himself was a taunting presence.

Teasing.

Calling to him.

Pulling Miguel to his side like a magnet.

He didn’t resist. He wanted to be next to EZ, to bask in the presence of his sentinel. To be inundated with the complex emotional waves that subsumed him and made his heart race.

Entering the small office area, he nodded to the manager—Alex who was another old schoolmate of Nestor’s and his—who just nodded and focused back on the security feeds, making himself busy and ignoring the arrival of his boss like he’d been trained to.If the police were to ask why Miguel was there, Alex would give a very convincing rundown of their monthly meeting to go over the business financials that he really just emailed to Miguel’s accounting firm and then met for beers with Nestor to verify. Miguel used this office intermittently for meetings and Alex was well paid to ignore any comings and goings unless instructed to pay attention by Miguel or Nestor.

EZ was waiting in the small space that contained packing materials that were available for sale. Flat cardboard boxes and shipping crates were stacked neatly with packing tape hung in rolls on the wall behind where he leaned against one of the moving dollies that had bags of styrofoam peanuts and bubble wrap rolls on top of it. His sentinel was pretending to be relaxed but Miguel could tell that EZ was barely holding himself back, the anxious our mtugs through the bond the equivalent of a nervous jiggling of the leg.

Bishop was visibly amused, eyes dancing between EZ and Miguel but Marcus’ attention was much different. The sharply observant look that he threw at Miguel as soon as he entered the space felt... not threatening but very, very observant. Miguel could feel the way that Marcus’ attention focused on him and it wasn’t just a visual assessment. Marcus felt... guide-like.

Stopping in his tracks, Miguel cocked his head and looked at Marcus Alvarez.El Padrino had straightened up as soon as Miguel had entered and the small smile the man wore on his face was kind. Like Miguel had performed some entertaining trick and it unsettled Miguel.The man felt... muted. Contained. And he was still watching so very, very carefully to see what Miguel would do. How he would react.

All he wanted to do was go stand next to EZ but he felt pinned—not wanting to give too much away but still desperately wanting his sentinel.

“Marcus.... “ Miguel drawled before yanking his attention away from the curious feeling to focus his attention on the other Mayan who wasn’t quite as subtly threatening.They all stood around like they were at a standoff. “Bishop.I’m here like I said I would be.”

Bishop was silent, gaze flickering between the other three men and waiting like a pressing storm, contained and hovering. Marcus started to chuckle and it was loud in the otherwise silent room. Resisting the urge to look at EZ and pull his sentinel to him, Miguel felt goosebumps erupt over his body as something pushed at him and he automatically pushed back at the invisible intrusion.

Hard.

Marcus shifted at the pushback like it had been physical not... mental. His laugh becoming louder in surprise as his eyes crinkled in bemusement like Miguel had performed a magic trick. “You learn quick... but you leak like a sinking ship,” the man said with a chuckle.

Pushed mentally off balance by the instinctive reaction he’d had to push back, Miguel felt one eyebrow tick up higher and his jaw clenched, teeth grinding. “What?”

“Your father would be so proud,” Marcus told him, shifting forward two steps that had a low grumble emit from EZ as he moved slightly but stopped himself at the last moment from physically getting between Marcus and Miguel reflexively, a frown on the sentinel’s face and he was breathing quick.

“Why would my father?” Miguel waved one hand helplessly. He was confused.He knew that Marcus had a close relationship with his father at one point but... his mind blanked on the significance. “What?” Miguel repeated, somewhat weakly.EZ did take a step closer to him and through the bond Miguel did the mental equivalent of grasping his sentinel’s hand for support.

“Your father would be very proud that you are an active guide.It was one of his great regrets that...” Marcus trailed off, eyes narrowing as he looked at EZ and face smoothing into a more thoughtful look. “Well I suppose that makes sense.”

“What makes sense?” Miguel asked, tone sharp. EZ shuffled his feet and actually came to his side, hovering slightly around Miguel’s left side so that their bodies brushed against one another in instinctive support but both of them focused their attention on Alvarez.

Marcus snorted. “How much has your father talked about being online?”

“My father was online?” Miguel asked at the same time as EZ answered, “He doesn’t talk about it at all.”

Miguel turned his body to look at his sentinel, confused. EZ’s own frown was focused on Marcus but his arm snaked around to encircle Miguel’s waist and to rest one hand on the opposite hip and pull their bodies closer, protectively. The touch, although separated by layers of cloth, was like a grounding strike for Miguel and his senses sharpened even as he felt armored by his sentinel’s presence.

The previous impressions he had crystallized into focus compared to the softened edges they’d had before. He’d been wrong—Marcus was a guide or had been one?He felt like a dim lightbulb but Miguel didn’t really have anything to compare him to other than the guide that had approached EZ this morning but that had been different.

Marcus clarified by addressing EZ. “Your father knew Jose Galindo.... back before you were born.”

Miguel wanted to goggle at the man but refrained from it—barely—by gripping EZ’s wrist where it lay against his hip. “He did?My father knew EZ’s?”

EZ shifted more and pulled Miguel tighter into him, his hip now pressed tight as his hand settled around Miguel’s midriff, palm flat over the fabric. The sense of displacement from EZ told Miguel that this was new information for EZ as well. “Back in Mexico.Before he knew my mom?”

“Yes. Before. I had forgotten how close they were....” Marcus trailed off. Bishop also felt intrigued by what Marcus was saying—it wasn’t just EZ and Miguel.

“How close?” Miguel asked. “And my father was online?I thought there had been no guides in my family for several generations the way my mother speaks of it.” 

His father had never mentioned being online but Miguel could remember the proud smile his father had given him when he’d brought home his test results from school. Jose Galindo had been home that afternoon—an oddity now that Miguel thought about it—and he’d been waiting for Miguel to bring home the results of the testing.His mother had been unimpressed and had rightfully noted at the time that just because he had the gene did not mean anything at all—he could be inactive all his life and that the statistics said this had been the more likely outcome. His father, however, had given him a small and proud smile before asking him if he understood what it meant to be a guide and have a sentinel.

Miguel could remember what he’d said, which sounded very naive now. A guide for every sentinel to be their best friend and work partner. Which EZ was.... but was also so much more. His father had nodded at his answer and embraced him, congratulating him.He’d also made a point of hushing Miguel’s mother, Dita, when she’d been annoyed with his encouragement and taken the family out to dinner to celebrate.

It had been one of the things that disappointed Miguel when he hadn’t come online before his father had died. His father would have liked to meet his sentinel. He was sure of it.

When he’d married Emily she’d hardly had time to meet his father before he’d passed away and been too ill to really say much about meeting her. In some ways, Miguel had felt it had cemented his need to marry Emily because his father had met her before dying. The stability of a family had always been important to his father and he’d felt the need to live up to those expectations as the only living son.

Marcus pursed his lips and looked at both EZ and Miguel, seemingly surrounded by a cloud of thought and memory when Miguel tried to pry which got him a small glare. “It really is something you should ask your father about Ezekiel,” Marcus started before including Miguel. “However he may not want to talk much about his time with Jose.I know your mother would be happier forgetting about him.”

EZ’s fingers dug in slightly to pull at the fabric. “First I’m hearing about it.Pops doesn’t talk at all about Mexico. Doesn’t talk at all about before my mom.”

Giving EZ support through the bond, Miguel asked for clarification as he knew that Marcus had to be referring back to before his own father had moved to the United States on a more permanent basis. “So my father and his knew each other. In Mexico. Back when you worked with my father?”

“They did.And I would say that they were more than friends... but I might be wrong about that.EZ—your father was an online sentinel and I thought...well i assumed that if Jose ever came online he’d be his guide.” Marcus dropped the bombshell information softly, seemingly knowing that it was a lot to take in for both of them.

Miguel tugged through the bond, wanting EZ as close as possible and felt EZ physically move behind him to wrap his arms fully around him from behind as he put his chin into the curve of neck behind his ear. EZ’s grip was tight, not giving a lot of room for Miguel to move in but he had no intention of doing so. “You think they were a pair.”

“I wasn’t the only one.Your mother thought so too,” Marcus informed him, the look on his face not suggesting nice things about Dita.“However... when..Ig—Felipe left for America your father didn’t protest. Your brother was born less than six months later.”

“Cristóbal.” He felt EZ’s confusion and stroked his fingers across the tense wrist muscles. “My older brother. He died.”

“Died?” EZ’s tone was serious and the pulse of sorrow through the bond was appreciated and Miguel let the warmth it generated in his mind buoy him.

“My mother said he was kidnapped. Like our cub.” The swift anger was cutting but not directed at Miguel and the muscles he was resting against tensed as if to act.

Before Miguel could say anything further Marcus cleared his throat appearing apologetic and slightly confused. “That is... wrong.He was not kidnapped.”

Confused himself, Miguel opened and closed his mouth with a click, glad once again for his sentinel’s hold on him.His mother had told him... she’d said... “Then how did he die?”

Marcus exchanged a look with Bishop that Miguel didn’t know how to interpret. Bishop just frowned in reply to whatever Alvarez was communicating. “He got sick.Your father was devastated—I believe it was pneumonia?”

Miguel’s brain felt frozen. His mother had said... she’d implied... he felt sick. When she’d implied that his cub could just be replaced... that he should just have another child... that had been only four days ago. And she’d lied? She’d lied about how his brother had died? Her attitude that his son could just be replaced—that he should just focus on getting Emily pregnant again....

EZ seemed to realize that Miguel was having difficulties, his arms warm around Miguel in the frigid air conditioned room. Shivering, Miguel realized both Bishop and Marcus were staring at him in concern. “Miguel?” He asked, voice gentle as his breath puffed against Miguel’s ear.

“You two should not be spending so much time apart. Your bond is too new,” Bishop observed.“They need a mentor,” he addd to Marcus.

Arms crossed over his chest, Marcus nodded in agreement at Bishop. “He leaks too much. EZ at least had a teacher.”

“Excuse me?” EZ said, letting his annoyance show.

Marcus gazed at him patronizingly. “You at least have some control.Your guide is newly online. He needs you to ground himself.Separating like you have... Miguel does not know his own limits. Guides can zone just as much as sentinels—it’s just much less obvious. And he has been stressed enough to come online. If his father was still alive....” Marcus trailed off, the wave of worry he directed at Miguel was almost... paternalistic.

Miguel actually found himself appreciating it but wasn’t sure he should be. “You’re a guide...?”

“I was,” Marcus sighed. “I used to be. While I still have a few tricks and can sense tsunami waves like you.. I am not actually fully online anymore.”

“Why not?” EZ asked, ignoring the implication that Miguel was likely an alpha class guide.

Arching an eyebrow, Marcus waved his hand. “I never found my sentinel and it is hard to want for so long. I’m sure you’ve told Miguel what it is like?”

Miguel could feel the movement of EZ’s throat as he swallowed, a small, old pain noticeable through their link. “I do.I would not ask Miguel to wait for me forever.”

Miguel found himself trying to turn in EZ’s grip to face him but his sentinel fought him on it, arms tight around him. ‘I would if it was you,” he whispered.

EZ’s eyes were unguarded and the dark whiskey colored pools drew Miguel in. The bond was open and the flow of feelings through it were hard to label. Love. Devotion. Want. Emotions that Miguel wasn’t sure he had the language skills to describe.

The noisy clearing of a throat startled them both. Bishop and Marcus were having another one of those silent conversations, facial muscles twitching as they both scowled at each other. “He needs a teacher,” Bishop insisted.

Sighing, Marcus nodded with a slump of his shoulders. “I would not recommend the centers. Not with EZ as his sentinel.”

“Then what would you recommend?” Nestor’s question made everyone look at him—they’d forgotten that he’d followed Miguel and EZ in.His best friend just raised one bushy eyebrow as if to ask Miguel ‘what?’

Clearing his own throat, Miguel nodded in agreement. “Yes.Who would you recommend if not the centers?”He was starting to wonder since nobody seemed to want him to go to them what exactly happened in the centers.

This got more nonverbal conversation exchanged between the two Mayans. “I can... teach you the basics,” Marcus allowed finally.“We were supposed to be talking business today but I can see that we need to get this settled first.”

“EZ has already been reassigned to have me as his sponsor instead of his brother. We can make this a joint exercise,” Bishop added.

The slight twist in emotion through the bond didn’t escape Miguel’s notice but he put it aside for the moment to focus on what Bishop and Marcus were offering. Teaching for him and—unless he was mistaken—protection of a sort for EZ.Did Bishop know about the DEA?Miguel was guessing not. Weaving his fingers through EZ’s, he concentrated to try and communicate without words with his sentinel. Worry. Doubt. Sureness in their bond. Shared strength.

EZ reciprocated, squeezing their conjoined fingers. Through the bond it almost sang with emotion that was completely pure and was like touching fire. It gave Miguel the strength to agree to the proposal.

“What do you want in return?To teach me?”Marcus seemed pleased that he wasn’t just accepting of help.The sense Miguel was getting was that the regressed guide was... proud of him.

“I once worked as one of your father’s advisors... I think you would benefit from me acting as that once again.”Bishop’s face showed surprise at Marcus’ offer before he managed to hide it behind his bland mask.

“Wouldn’t that interfere with being a Mayan?” Miguel asked, trying to understand what exactly Marcus meant by being an advisor.Devante was one of the few holdovers he had from when his father had been running things... and given Devante’s close association with his mother and her most recent advice....Miguel may need to re-evaluate things.A lot of things.

Bishop answered this time. “He would... Marcus?I know Oakland is... you’ve already appointed your successor.It would not interfere too much.Not if we know that you still intend to be our partner and given that your sentinel is one of our prospects?”

Marcus spoke to Bishop, his gaze flicking towards Miguel multiple times as he spoke. “You must also be okay with your prospect being the sentinel of our biggest business partner.”

Bishop looked at Miguel out of the side of his eye, mustache twitching slightly as he studied him but seemed to focus on his and EZ’s linked hands.Miguel just got the impression that the Mayan was a subtle man, preferring to keep things close as his emotions didn’t reach out like others’ did or maybe it was because he wasn’t a sentinel nor a guide.“EZ is a good prospect.After his time is done he should be in good standing for a vote to patch in.”

EZ didn’t remark on Bishop’s assessment but Miguel could feel his response through the bond. Being a Mayan was something his sentinel wanted—so Miguel would make sure it happened.

“I will support that,” he promised, aware of the pleasure this sparked in EZ at his support. It occurred to him that EZ hadn’t been sure that he’d support him and that would need to be rectified—somehow. It’d likely take a lot of time for EZ to believe that Miguel meant it when he said they were in things together. That he wasn’t just going to take things from EZ. His sentinel’s sense of self-worth seemed to need bolstering after his time in prison and the reminder that EZ still seemed to think of himself as the lesser partner was frustrating. “When do we start lessons?”

Marcus puffed out his cheeks and sighed. “Today.You need a few lessons today.”

“Then start teaching,” Miguel replied with likely more sarcasm than was warranted.

***

He regretted the sarcasm now. EZ sat against the wall on the concrete floor with his legs spread out in a V, Miguel between them as he attempted to focus on learning how to shield. Marcus wasn’t that bad of a teacher—really. It was just that every time Miguel tried to clear his mind he found himself folding back into the bond and his sentinel. They’d tried it separately but that hadn’t worked too well either. His focus wasn’t good without EZ touching him and he picked up too much despite the low population of the industrial park around them.

The description of what a guide zone could be like had scared him. According to Marcus, while not usually known for zone outs like sentinels, zones could be just as problematic for higher level guides as they were for sentinels. Most guides had the ability to sense to varying degrees based on strength. The difference between a lower level guide and a higher level guide was the ability to project with alpha guides being the most versatile and powerful—sensing and projecting. A zone out for Miguel?He could accidentally project a nightmare that wouldn’t end or he’d be stuck in someone else’s that he picked up by accident and followed down the rabbit hole to their emotional core.

And that was assuming he wasn’t purposefully trying to read someone and didn’t get stuck. The story Marcus relayed of getting stuck following the trail of a mass murderer before Miguel was born had made Miguel cling to EZ.The way Marcus described the oily feel of the murderer’ s mind and how it had sunk hooks into his own that had taken months to get rid of was a warning. Miguel needed to learn and learn fast.

Marcus’ assessment was that—with practice and dedication—Miguel would be a very strong alpha class guide. However, right now he was mostly a loose cannon. He was leaking his own emotions and it could affect those around him.Nestor had, with a deep blush, confirmed this and the toothy smile EZ had shot at the other sentinel had been predatory and possessive.

Nestor had totally had a front row seat to their activities this morning and was still speaking to Miguel—which was a wonder.Nestor was too good of a friend for him to keep doing this to him. So he needed to learn basic shielding and to stop leaking projected emotions.

“The stronger the emotion the more likely it is to project if you’re not paying attention. Guides such as you spend years learning control and it takes time,” Marcus implored from where he sat on one of the carts.

Frustrated, Miguel blew air out his mouth as he pinched his nose. “I am trying,” he groused.

EZ leaned forward, arms stroking along Miguel’s hips and thighs to rest on his knees to remind him of his sentinel’s presence. “We know you’re trying...” EZ breathed into his ear. “But how about we try this again?I’ll walk you through it.”

Giving a single, sharp nod before settling back into EZ and closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. With his eyes closed, he could easily sense Marcus, Bishop, Nestor and Alex as well as the vague sense of several people working two buildings over without even trying. Blowing out the breath, he purposefully relaxed his muscles and let EZ support his weight, the sentinel’s fingers rubbing at the cloth of his trousers.

“Focus Miguel,” EZ crooned, his voice soft and seductive with the velvety husk of a whisper. “Just us. You let yourself become my focal point... let me be yours.Don’t let them touch you. Close them out. Just us.”

Mentally, Miguel tried to ignore the others and their presence. Marcus’ patient attention, Nestor’s worry, Bishop’s contained intensity, and Alex’s boredom as he stared at the accounting books. EZ was easily the brightest mental presence around him, dancing at his back and warming him from the inside out like a fire. The light tease of his fingers were actually a stronger anchor than his solid presence along his back. From the center of Miguel’s chest was the mental visualization of their bond that wound down his body in a complex web of knots that became a thick braided rope that led directly to EZ’s wrist before snaking up his arm and into his chest. Each thread was made of mental energy and it was stronger than the toughest metal yet flexible enough to twine around them both like a living web. Delicate yet strong. Resilient.

According to Marcus, this visualization of the bond energy was unique to Miguel. But if it worked he didn’t have a problem with Miguel using it.

Following the strands, Miguel could feel EZ. Feel their bond. Feel how deeply rooted it went within them both and down into the core of their souls. The phantom brush of wolf fur against his cheek and the far off howl that both seemed to echo yet fade was present as he focused on the energy. Using the mental strands of the bond, he began to weave a bubble around them. Pulling and twisting as he wove the energy around him.

It took him long enough but when he opened his eyes twenty minutes later he was ensconced in a mental bubble with EZ.He’d shut out the others.

Marcus, had a small smile stretching across his face but his eyes gleamed with pride. “That’s a good first attempt.”

Realizing he was sweaty and panting slightly, Miguel groaned as he shifted slight having gotten stiff in EZ’s hold.Just moving slightly made his grip almost slip from the created shield. “It’s better than good.Try to get through it.”

The sense of intrusion was immediate as Marcus didn’t hesitate. Frowning, Miguel let the shield flex around the pulse but dispersed the energy around them without letting it touch him. When he let himself follow the strands of energy he got the impression that the attack had been the mental equivalent of a tickle and it dissipated quickly.

“Try something real,” he insisted.

Raising an eyebrow, Marcus nodded and the push was stronger the second time. This wasn’t a mere irritant. It felt... angry. Sharp.

The shield bowed and the energy wave gathered to a point, intruding deep into the space Miguel had made around them. He immediately tried to shore up the point of contact, reinforcing it.While he was preoccupied he missed the second wave of attack and it hit a point in the shields that Miguel had shifted energy away from.

Predictably, the second attack made it through and it was a sharp slap that felt physical as it made his ears ring and the skin on one cheek stung like it had earlier from Emily’s hit. However, unlike earlier, the pain was immediately soothed by EZ rubbing his cheek against his. The drag of mustache against skin easing the prickling pain enough that he could breathe again as EZ reset his sense of touch by anchoring him to the physical. “Fuck.”

Marcus’ chuckle made him glare at the man who just held his hands up in front of his chest. “You’re doing much better than most.Most new guides wouldn’t have been able to stop the first wave.”

“Was sneaky,” he panted. He was exhausted and all he’d done was build a few flimsy shields and try to block.This was pathetic. He could do better.

“But not cheating,” Marcus pointed out.The other man was enjoying this way too much.

EZ didn’t comment but Miguel could feel that he was proud of him. Of Miguel being his guide. It was intoxicating to feel how much pride EZ had in him, how he believed in Miguel’s abilities.It spurred him on. “Again.”

His insistence got another raised eyebrow. “You’re sure?You should really just work on maintaining the shields.”

“Again,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Do you know why your sentinel is able to stop the attack?” Marcus asked instead, radiating patience which just annoyed Miguel that he was picking it up without trying.

Miguel thought a moment and discarded his annoyance with his performance. Replaying what had happened in his mind he went over what he’d done and how he’d reacted. “Sentinels deal in the physical senses... they are experts in sight, hearing, smell, taste and...” Miguel met Marcus’ gaze. “They’re experts in touch.He reset my sense of touch to let me know that it wasn’t real.”

“Yes. But do you do the same?”

“No.Or not exactly,” Miguel let his hand find EZ’s jaw without thinking, his fingers following the strong muscle and cupping the angle so EZ could nuzzle into his palm.

“Explain,” EZ asked, just as curious.

“I’m his baseline. His,” Miguel waved his free hand, searching for the word. “I’m his normal?”

“He can use you to calibrate. To anchor.Guides have the ability to link to sentinels to let them adjust their abilities through you.It’s what makes you a guide—your ability to connect to another’s soul.”

“Through the bond I can tell what I should and shouldn’t be sensing unless I dial up,” EZ added, contentment flooding the bond as he rubbed his face against Miguel’s hand. His sentinel was happy to act as an anchor—and he was feeding Miguel energy. He hadn’t noticed it at first but there was a definite current of energy sharing going through their bond that seemed to push towards him and away from EZ.

“You think that we connect souls,” Miguel stated, ignoring EZ’s statement for a moment—he’d come back to his observation about energy flow later.

Marcus shrugged, his kutte creaking as the old leather settled on his shoulders. “Souls. Mental representations of our inner mind. Call it what you will but I like the old term: souls. Maybe it is my family’s old catholic influence but I don’t know of any better name to call it.”

“The old sentinel who taught me... he called it our spirits,” EZ offered. “Said guides connected to the spirit world and through them we as sentinels could be anchored to the physical world while serving as the same for the guide in the spirit world. That without us... guides could become untethered and lose themselves and leave behind the physical shell with no spirit within it.”

Miguel tried both words in his mind but he agreed that he liked spirit better than soul but it was likely because he could sense how much EZ liked the term. His sentinel wasn’t being shy about letting Miguel feel his preferences when they were this close. “Losing ourselves.... do you think he was talking about zones?”

EZ was somewhat skeptical. “I’m not sure.I think Raul was referring to an extreme version of a zone. He seemed to... indicate it could be permanent and that there was something beyond this world called the spirit plane. He said it was why high level guides need sentinels as bad as we need guides. That we pine for our anchors and that the right one is just ours and nobody else’s.”

Miguel’s thoughts instantly went to the dreams he’d had every night since bonding with EZ.The mountainous desert with all it’s mesas and canyons and how he didn’t feel he’d always been exploring the place in a human shape. The memory of four paws and the chase of the hunt was fading but he could viscerally remember the thrill of running alongside his mate and tumbling down to the strand of trees by the river bend before tangling his body with his sentinel’s. “Is it normal after bonding to have really vivid dreams?”

“I never did—but I never bonded,” Marcus admitted. “However I was taught that it was possible.”

“Hm.,” Miguel hummed, distracted by his thoughts. He had some answers but not others and it was frustrating. “You said my father wasn’t online?”

“No,” Marcus allowed, obviously hesitant. “But he was close. I think... I don’t know if Felipe had stayed if he would have eventually come fully online. My teacher called it being awakened—online is a newer term.”

“I’m still confused about the various degrees of online, regressed, inactive,” Miguel complained, feeling drained but unwilling to concede defeat.

“Think of it this way,” EZ offered. “Online is fully active. Regressed means that whatever it is that makes us a sentinel or guide is gone and won’t ever come back. Inactive is like your abilities have gone to sleep but you might still have a few tricks you’re able to access.”

“Can they be reawakened?” Miguel asked, eyeing Marcus. Marcus was inactive—that was the word he’d used to describe himself.

“Rarely,” Marcus answered. “It’s very rare but not unheard of.”

Miguel knew there were stories behind that but he was really too tired to listen right now and take more information in. “One more try?”

Marcus allowed it. “One more try.Build your shield and hold it.”

***

Miguel managed to talk Marcus and EZ into two more attempts and was completely mentally wiped after rebuilding his shields after the last attempt. Instead of attacking it, Marcus had EZ try to show Miguel how to maintain it so it was always present.

The lesson was somewhat effective—the shield Miguel managed to maintain was light but it kept him from leaking “everywhere” according to Marcus. Mainly it just gave Miguel a low level migraine that EZ immediately soothed with a few strokes of his hand through the guide’s hair. Submitting with pleasure to the touch, Miguel had given up on dignity for the moment and just basked in the presence of his sentinel.

Bishop had arranged with Nestor while they were busy to have regularly scheduled tutoring sessions—one every couple of days over the next several weeks.Nestor had also discussed the next shipment that would need assistance from the Mayans while Miguel had been preoccupied. 

The difference from the previous shipments is that this one wasn’t drugs—it was the first completely clean shipment that the Galindo shipping fleet would be moving and was slated to have agriculture products. Given what had happened on the last shipment, Nestor wasn’t taking any chances as the amount of interference in shipping had been going up before the whole incident with the keys. If everything went well, every shipping container that crossed the border would have a Mayan escort for the first fifty miles or so acting as security until it reached the warehouses where goods were offloaded and exports with destinations in Mexico were reloaded for the return trip.

Thankfully Nestor and Bishop could get this done without Miguel’s attention given he was mentally just done with everything after his session with Marcus.

After Marcus left him to have a moment with EZ before they had to part again, Miguel found himself unwilling to let EZ’s hand drop. The rough calluses on the palms from working with his hands contrasted with his own well-kept hands and he couldn’t stop running his fingers along the finger pads teasingly. EZ, for his part, was just as reluctant to walk away and the tug of the bond kept them both close as it hummed happily.

“Tonight?” Miguel asked, standing close to EZ just inside the door of the office.

“Tonight,” EZ confirmed, his fingers chasing Miguel’s as he tried to withdraw his hand.

“It seems so long,” Miguel confessed lowly. It was only late afternoon despite feeling like he’d spent all day exercising to make shields. He knew that there was no way he could get EZ into the house with Emily and his mother there during daylight hours and he didn’t want to have that argument/fight today. Things were just happening so fast and felt so out of control...

EZ touched their faces together, eyes sliding shut as the sentinel breathed in his scent.Miguel could tell EZ was anchoring himself with their shared scents and the way one arm snaked around his waist to pull them flush to each other. Unable to resist, Miguel let his hands frame EZ’s face, nails lightly scratching through EZ’s close shorn hair to cup either side of the neck and let his own eyes fall closed.

Just breathing in his sentinel’s presence before they went about the rest of their day.

Just one more minute with EZ where he could feel the magnetic pull lessen to just allow him to be here.

The scent of leather and cologne that hung around his sentinel was stronger now that he’d closed his eyes. He could feel each movement of EZ’s chest as he breathed in and out, the strength in the arms that rested around his waist and could feel when EZ finally relaxed fully into just imprinting him all over again. Idly, Miguel wondered what it was like for EZ each time he did this. For Miguel it was like all his troubles would melt away just for this one moment where he was only focusing on EZ. All the stress just stopped for one moment.

The purposeful scuffing of boots on the concrete floor announced Nestor’s arrival. “Mikey... I’m ready when you are.”

Sighing, Miguel opened his eyes which immediately met EZ’s own whiskey colored ones that were focused on him. The reluctance to part flowed between them. “Tonight?” Miguel asked again, voice sad.

“Tonight,” EZ promised, closing his eyes as he pulled away and let his arms drop.“After dark.”

Hating that he was sneaking EZ into his home like he wasn’t wanted and was a secret, Miguel resisted the urge to say something different. Soon it wouldn’t be a secret but that would require a lot of uncomfortable conversations that he didn’t want to have today with his family. “Nestor will contact you with directions.”

“Sure,” Nestor interjected, his hand touching Miguel’s elbow to encourage him to leave.

Pulling away from Nestor’s touch as well as his sentinel, Miguel busied himself with resettling his suit coat around him and brushing nonexistent dust off his trousers as a way of preoccupying himself as Nestor and EZ exchanged contact information.

And then he was watching EZ walk away. The sentinel’s back immediately tightened after his first step away and he took several glances over his shoulder at Miguel as if to reassure himself that his guide was still there. Miguel felt rooted to the spot, feeling the bond stretch around his poor excuse of a shield. He wanted to call out and tell EZ to come back but knew he shouldn’t. Couldn’t. Just because he wanted EZ with him was not enough. They both had roles to play.

The day where they wouldn’t have to be apart ever couldn’t come soon enough.

Unable to keep still, Miguel trailed slowly after EZ and watched as the sentinel joined the two patched Mayans on his bike.The rumble of engines as the motorcycles started was loud and echoed off the cement and warehouses. With a wave, EZ kicked off and turned around... and left.

Miguel watched until the sentinel was out of eyesight and then let his shoulders droop. Nestor came up next to him and the light brush of their shoulders was supportive. His old friend brought the sensation of calm steadfastness that Miguel was already very accustomed to depending on when his sentinel wasn’t immediately present. The stretch and pull of the bond at parting from EZ was a constant awareness but tolerable—for now.

Silently promising himself, he mentally repeated what EZ had said. Tonight. They would be together tonight.

“You’ll see him tonight,” Nestor tried, supportive.

“I know,” Miguel agreed, aware that he sounded quite plaintive.“I think we have a few things to look into in the meantime.”

“Like?” Nestor’s curiosity was piqued.

“I need you to talk to Esteban and obtain my brother’s death certificate.”

The prickling sensation of curiosity increased and Miguel resisted the urge to scratch. “You think your mother...?”

“If she lied... I need to know. I want to know the truth of what happened to my brother—no more lies about it. I’m tired of being manipulated.”

There was a pause and Miguel could feel his friend thinking about what he knew. “Your mother thought she was helping you by suggesting having another child.”

Miguel bit back his anger—Nestor was almost his brother and he’d told him about what his mother had said. How she’d implied that rather than worrying about getting his cub back he should just get busy making another baby with Emily. It had been one of the only times he’d ever seen his mother advocating on Emily’s behalf and the thought of just giving up on his son... he’d almost hit her when he’d realized what she’d advised him to do.Cris was his cub, his tesoro. How could he give up his son? The coldness with which she’d suggested that he, himself, was simply a replacement for his brother...

He’d been born less than a year after his brother’s death.

He knew this.

A chill crept up his back.“I need to know what happened Nestor. Who’s telling the truth about my brother.”

“Sure Mikey. But does it change anything?”

“I don’t know. But I need to know...” he trailed off. Marcus’ implication that his own father and EZ’s had known each other—close enough that Marcus had been convinced that if Jose Galindo had ever been online they would have been a matched pair like Miguel was with EZ...

Miguel couldn’t outright ask Felipe Reyes questions right now. His almost father-in-law was obviously cautious about him being EZ’s guide—and rightfully so given his love for his son and the deal that had been made to get EZ out of Stockton. He’d need to be careful and eventually he was sure he’d get the story from EZ’s father.In the meantime, he needed Esteban to make sure that EZ was free and clear.

This was such a tangled mess.

“I’ll have Stevie pull the records,” Nestor agreed as they walked back to the SUV.

“Thanks Nestor,” Miguel said, clapping his friend on the back. “I don’t know what I’d do without you some days.”

***

It was getting late in the evening when he finally left his office—which he would admit to himself he’d been hiding in to avoid everyone since returning home. Moving through the house, Miguel stretched out with his mind to make sure nothing else needed his immediate attention.He was careful not to overextend himself like Marcus had warned him about but it was easy to mark down his family and employees. Emily had retreated to their bedroom and the frozen anger she emitted was enough to make him give it a wide berth.Cris was asleep in his crib and content. The few live-in staff were in their quarters without any tinges of anxiety or conflict which allowed Miguel to take a deep breath and release the stress of the day form his shoulders. 

It had been such a long day.... and... his sentinel was waiting. He’d felt him arrive a half hour ago and Nestor had done as requested and smuggled EZ in without Emily noticing.

Following the continuous tug of the bond to the pool house, he found himself smiling in anticipation of just being with EZ.He’d asked Miriam to have the small self-contained cottage prepared for his sentinel and had moved enough of his own things out of the master suite that it wouldn’t be immediately known by Emily—she’d think he was just giving her space as he’d done once before in the past when they’d had a particularly volatile argument and he’d needed time away from her.

Making his way to the cottage, it was dark except for the amber spilling of light from the bedroom en-suite and the sound of water falling was audible as it echoed off the tiled granite flooring. Tugged along by the continuous call of their bond, Miguel trailed through the great room and kitchen to the hallway and into the bedroom suite without turning on any lights, his footfalls soft.

Looking to the left, the sound of water was louder. EZ was in the shower but had left a teasing trail of clothing for Miguel to follow. One boot here and another there, the leather kutte draped on the end of the bed frame. The olive green t-shirt discarded on the threshold between bedroom and bath.The jeans with boxers still within them lying just inside the bathroom in front of the twin sinks, the denim fabric dark against the pale grey of the granite.

EZ must have gone straight for the shower, the air within the bathroom heavy with steam and the heavy perfumed scent of eucalyptus from the fresh cuttings that Miriam had left as an anchor point for the sentinel so he could clear his senses. The glass of the walk-in shower was opaque from steam, just the faint outline of EZ’s body visible from the doorway.

Shucking his own clothes carelessly, Miguel walked around the glass wall to join his sentinel. The sight of EZ, head bowed as he savored the feel of water cascading from the ceiling mounted rain shower head... the way the water tracked down the muscular shoulders that were thrown back in relaxation as EZ radiated satisfaction from heat and the massaging pulse of water under pressure.

The sentinel’s unclothed body was a study in masculine musculature but with a few curves that drew they eye. Relaxed as he was, EZ’s form had an hourglass-like shape that made Miguel’s mouth go dry in want as his eyes traced the waterfall that caressed each curve and dip. From the cap of the bowed head down past the circular ear to the triangular slope of the trapezius and broad shoulders then further down to the well defined back with the dimples of Venus above the rounded swell of the generous ass that Miguel wanted to grip and squeeze until EZ pinned him against the wall to give as good as he got. The nipping in of tight waistline above the lateral flare of hip and the resultant contraction of thigh muscle drew the eye to the hollow of the knee and the prominence of the Achilles’ tendon before reaching the gentle turn of ankle and arch of the foot. All of which was slick with water and soap, beckoning Miguel to come closer.

Miguel was truly fucked—his Ezekiel had a beautiful body that he wanted to posses. To explore. To take in every way that EZ would let him.

Inhaling deeply, the moisture coated the back of his throat as he stepped close with his mouth open and tucked his nose into the center groove of his sentinel’s nape.Their bodies separated by less than a fingers breadth and then he carefully aligned their bodies so that they slotted together as if made for this purpose. Sliding his hands along the curve of the rib cage and then splaying his fingers to trace the outline of each water slick abdominal muscle as they moved south, one thumb grazing against the indentation of the navel before cradling the muscle groove of the hips known as the adonis belt making EZ jerk slightly in his grip.

Just breathing and taking in the scent of soap and EZ, Miguel let the water cascade over the both of them, the heat penetrating his own muscles to take away the fatigue of the day. Unable to resist, he let him tongue sneak a lick at the knob at the top of EZ’s spine before gently teething at it making EZ shift under his fingers and press his generously rounded ass into Miguel’s thickening erection. The groan of want grew out of EZ’s chest as Miguel bit gently at the skin, worrying itand sucking a bruise into the skin as his fingers slipped further south.He gripped at soft skin at the inside of EZ’s thighs that parted to give him access, ignoring the swell of EZ’s sex which earned Miguel a needy whine and EZ’s head fell back to rest on his shoulder, body relaxed and open for whatever his guide wanted.

The feeling of trust.... of love... the fire of sexual desire that was flaring within the bond itself... Miguel reveled in it and pulled EZ tight mentally, the sentinel going without protest and simply let his own hands rest on Miguel’s forearms, fingers loosely cupping the wrists.EZ shook in his hold before settling, the pull of his unshaven cheek against the skin of Miguel’s shoulder and neck rough before the curtain of water smoothed it away. 

“Miguel,” was the hoarse call that made him shiver, hands tightening in a squeeze that grounded him. Turning slightly, his eyes met EZ’s that were just open tiny slivers below the fluttering, waterlogged eyelashes that were so long and beautiful that they shouldn’t belong on a man but worked on his sentinel. The dark whiskey color of the iris was almost obscured by the arousal dilated pupils. “Miguel....”

The kiss was hungry. Open mouthed they shared breath as they reacquainted themselves with one another after a second separation. Tongues tangling and dueling as they tasted one another. Smooth skin glided under his hands as EZ twisted in his grip so they could be pressed against each other’s front. Miguel didn’t fight this as it allowed for him to grasp two handfuls of ass and pull EZ in tighter, slotting their cocks and hips together as EZ’s arms wrapped around his shoulders and fingers tangled in his hair to give EZ leverage to pull their mouths together.

Letting out a snarl, Miguel pinned EZ against the tiled wall. The coolness of the tile making EZ hiss before chasing Miguel’s mouth with his own to bitingly rejoin them in another bruising kiss. Chasing the sounds that his sentinel was making, Miguel manipulated the bond and fed all the wanting hunger, longing and frustration of the day into it and felt the reciprocation from EZ that crashed through the bond in waves that sank into the marrow of his bones it was so deeply felt within him.

The tender longing and always there ravenous want for the other’s presence and the ecstasy of being there, together. They were codependent on one another and it should have been frightening but instead it was intoxicating and reassuring as his sentinel’s very presence made him feel high. To need one another so completely was... not something anyone other than another sentinel or guide could ever hope to know or understand. No one else could hunger for their other half so completely to cast aside all other needs or wants.

It hadn’t been like this when he’d fallen in love with Emily... and that brief thought made him inexplicably sad. Breaking the kiss, Miguel pressed his face against EZ’s and just felt... everything. The weight of EZ’s arms around his shoulders, the slight catch as fingers tangled in his hair and the palm cupped the back of his head and the hitch of each breath sliding their chests and groins against one another. But the physical was only part of what he was drowning in—the bone deep love and longing. The patient sense of want and the lingering tinge of their physical absence from each other over the course of the day. The parting that was necessary but felt like he was tearing away a piece of his soul every time they walked away from each other. Falling in love with Emily had been all euphoria and bliss... but it was only a surface impression or an oil slick on top of the water compared to the deep ocean of feelings that stirred at EZ’s touch.

The sense of question through their bond was patient. EZ expressing wordlessly as he just waited for Miguel to indicate why they’d stopped. So patient... and kind.

His sentinel had the patience to wait for him forever.

EZ had waited for him... would always wait for him. He knew this.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck.

Miguel was aware a few tears had leaked from his eyes but it would be difficult for EZ to know given how they were positioned almost underneath the shower head. Sensing Miguel’s distress, EZ rubbed their faces together as he waited for Miguel to tell him what had disturbed him enough to pull back. To stop the aggressive physical taking that he’d started.

“Miguel? Cariño?” EZ asked, tone questioning but not pressing. Through the bond, it felt like a physical hug as EZ tried to reach out to him in a way that was... careful yet tender.

“Cariño?” Miguel deflected, snorting in amusement at the endearment. “Cariño?”

Miguel felt rather than saw the smile as their faces were pressed too close to see. “Do you prefer something else? Cari? Our cub is your tesoro.... mi amor?” EZ’s tone was thoughtful and then became playfully mocking before he added another suggestion, “Papi?”

At the sarcastic ‘papi’ Miguel choked in laughter and pulled back just enough to meet EZ’s eyes. “Don’t ever call me that one. Oh god... papi....”

EZ’s smile was wide, the flash of white teeth boyish as he purposefully spoke in a higher pitch and fluttered his eyes. “Oh Papi! Fuck me Papi!”

“No!” Miguel snorted and laughed, grip tightening to pull their bodies tighter. “No Papi.I’d take cariño or cari over that.” Making a face Miguel tried out an english pet name. “Babe?”

Amused, EZ’s dimples smoothed as he lightly pecked Miguel on the nose with a shake of his head knocking water everywhere. “Mi _vida_?” He tried out, watching for Miguel’s reaction, expression soft.

The way EZ said _mi vida_ did something in his chest, his heart rate picking up yet causing his breath to catch in his throat.Emily had taunted him during their last coupling by calling him jefe—thankfully EZ hadn’t tried that one. But _mi vida_?It was such an accurate way to describe how he felt—that he’d been both waiting his entire life for this yet also had his life changed by the presence of his sentinel.

“ _Mi vida_ ,” Miguel tried out, the words falling from his tongue and the way they hit EZ’s ears obviously did something for his sentinel as he visibly blushed and shuddered in his hands. “I think we both know how accurate that name is. _Mi vida. Mi amor_ ,” Miguel whispered but it hit EZ like he’d shouted it from the highest mountaintops, a tremor moving through the body underneath his as EZ’s body arched to press into his, to decrease any space between them to nothing. 

“ ** _Mi vida_** ,” Miguel repeated as he caught EZ’s mouth, eyes open to watch as his sentinel’s eyes fluttered shut while kissing back, seeking out Miguel blindly.

Miguel lost himself in kissing his sentinel—the physical and mental parts of him engrossed with his _Vida_. His EZ.The hungry pull of the bond as it tightened between them to bind them even closer. Flesh and bone striving to get as close to one another physically as they were mentally and attempting to merge into one being. The drag of lip and tongue, the way fingers delved into muscle to pull and gather their bodies slipping against one another in a tangle of arousal and need with soap and water providing just enough slick to prevent chafing.

Rolling his hips into his sentinel, Miguel had fully pinned EZ against the tiled wall, drinking each noise that he elicited and savoring it like the finest wine.EZ didn’t try to escape, his own mouth and hands busy as he thrust back, seeking friction as their cocks rubbed against each other. It wasn’t quite enough to get off and Miguel would still EZ just long enough to prevent reaching their peak before delving back into the fray of clutching hands and desperate kisses as EZ clung to him. EZ’s hips were open, his knees splayed out to the side as he tried to gain leverage but was denied by Miguel who wanted to see just how long he could draw the pleasure out, how close to the edge he could keep EZ.

EZ was too far gone to mount an organized resistance, pupils blown as Miguel doubled down through the bond. Dumping everything into the connection, Miguel twisted and teased, stroking his sentinel’s inner core with mental touches even as he pulled one of the muscular thighs up and around his own hip to get more leverage to fuck their hips together.The few words that escaped EZ was Miguel’s name, _mi vida_ , and increasingly desperate sounding exclamations of “fuck” and “fuck me”.

Miguel himself couldn’t help but constantly repeat Ezekiel’s full name interspersed with declarations of how EZ was _his_. Miguel’s. Nobody else’s. He may be a prospect for the Mayans but EZ only belonged truly to Miguel. Not the faint old claim that Emily had cast away years ago and briefly toyed with upon EZ’s return.

That he was Miguel’s _vida_.

His _amor_.

His sentinel to Miguel’s guide.

Two halves made wonderfully whole by their meeting. Their joining.

When EZ started to peak the next time, Miguel pushed him over and tumbled with him into orgasm, hips jerking as he came against EZ. Slumping into the sentinel, he bit into the bonding mark making EZ’s orgasm stutter as his whole body seized in pleasure, bond flaring into a mental white out that made them both lose time again.

Coming back to himself, Miguel was held upright against EZ who was only standing because he was between the shower wall and him. Both of them were trembling like newborn colts, the last shudders of orgasm just fading away to enjoy the elation of just being present. Of being together.

He hadn’t broken the skin this time but the bruising around the mark was a dark reddish purple with some slight swelling. Nuzzling the mark made EZ let out a wheezing breath as it punched out of him, body jerking in pleasure as his hands scrabbled at Miguel’s back to hold him close and dipping his own noseto tuck it behind Miguel’s ear. EZ’s breath panting over Miguel’s mark but he only tongued it, no hint of teeth. 

“Miguel.... _Miguel_!”EZ sounded broken as his body quaked from muscles that couldn’t quite get coordinated enough to move from where he was slumped against the tile. “My Miguel...”

“Yours,” Miguel promised him, his own voice not much stronger than EZ’s. “Yours as you are mine, _mi vida_.”

Finally getting some coordination back in his limbs, EZ pulled their mouths together. This time the kiss was gentler. More of a promise and sharing of breath than the aggression of their earlier meeting. Tenderness replaced the urgent need and they moved to begin washing one another.

Unlike their prior attempts at showering together, they moved languidly. Enjoying the presence of each other. Given time now that the urgency had passed, Miguel found himself tracing each line of EZ’s body as he ran soapy hands along it. Visually caressing as his hands fondled each firm muscle and curve. EZ did the same, his hands exploring with the occasional tease that neither of them chased in silence.

The bond between them hummed with life. Momentarily sated but already pushing them to remain close, to not part. The distance between them today had aggravated the link as it was still new.Miguel found himself idly examining it, wondering how it would change and mature with time. Mentally plucking it made EZ give a startled whine and physically jerk as if electrocuted.

“Miguel!” Was the sharp gasp as he did it again, feeling EZ’s body start to stir and arousal to rise from the wide open channel of the bond.

Intrigued by the response, Miguel gave an evil grin to his mate that made EZ’s eyes go round in shock. “Like that?” He asked as he did it again.

The sharp explicative was probably accurate. EZ reversed their positions and swiftly pinned Miguel against the tile. “Keep doing that and you’ll find out,” EZ ground out as he rolled his hips, his cock not yet able to respond despite the desire within him.

Pulling EZ’s face to his, Miguel just kissed him in response and bit at the lower lip to gain entrance. EZ’s hands roved his body, soap sud trails following. He didn’t need to touch the bond, they were both off again already and each sensation chased with a reciprocation.

Trying to finish washing up, Miguel grabbed the shampoo and began massaging EZ’s close shorn head, fingers working as they fondled his sentinel’s head.EZ took the opportunity to steal another kiss as he took the shampoo away and the cool feeling of liquid soap in Miguel’s own hair had him groaning in pleasure as EZ massaged his scalp. The way EZ’s thumbs found the muscle behind the ear at the side of the neck had him breathing open mouthed, cheek pressed to EZ’s as he hummed.

Another quick dunking under the spray of water to wash away the soap and they were kissing again, hands now soapless.

Distracted as he was by EZ, minutes passed like this. And when EZ pulled back and turned the shower controls off, all Miguel could do was stare at his sentinel.

Amused, EZ took his hand and pulled Miguel out of the shower.A warm towel used to ruffle and dry Miguel’s hair before being placed around his shoulders as EZ grabbed a second one, staying just out of arm’s range to dry himself off.

Efficiently ridding himself of most of the water, Miguel followed as EZ walked naked back towards the bedroom that was lit by the light from the pool coming through the windows.Pulling back the blankets, EZ took several glances at Miguel as he leaned against the doorframe watching him. When the covers were all pulled back to his satisfaction, EZ gestured for Miguel to lay down.

Smirking at his sentinel, Miguel let himself fall and bounce lightly on the bed before resting back on the pillows, eyebrow arched in question at EZ.“Coming?”

EZ licked his lips, gaze hot as it took in Miguel. “Eventually,” he promised as he joined his guide, moving like a stalking cat to cover Miguel’s body with his own.

“Promises promises...” Miguel said huskily, catching EZ’s jaw with one hand to cup, thumb grazing the stubble that felt like rough sandpaper. “I am at your mercy.”

Eyes hooded, EZ pressed a feather-light kiss into his palm before rising up to his knees straddling Miguel. “I missed you so much today.... let me remind you of what it is to be together.”

They were so distracted by each other that neither noticed the figure that watched from across the pool through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone want to guess who’s watching? 
> 
> Anyways, I apologize for the delay. I’m on mandatory overtime until after the first of the year and it’s cut my writing time to almost nothing—it’s either sleep or writing at this point for me. I may or may not have more of this story out by January—we’ll see. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Stay safe out there everyone!


	7. XIII-XIV

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> XIII: Angel is learning more as he goes but EZ is making his life complicated. He just wants to protect his brother but it’s getting harder the more he finds out.
> 
> XIV: Emily’s world is shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings this chapter for accidental voyeurism, infidelity.

_XIII. Angel_

Something was brewing on the horizon. The threat of lightening tingling in the air around Angel even as the rest of the club relaxed in the late evening hours just after sunset. An impromptu party atmosphere had sprung up for no particular reason on a Friday night other than it was the weekend. EZ had made his escape, just indicting that he needed to spend more time with his guide that Angel still didn’t even know her name. Bishop had given a nod of approval at EZ’s exit and all but ordered Angel to stay and leave EZ alone with his guide.

His exact words had been, “Let him have his time with his guide.He’ll bring them around when he feels able to.”Which after Bishop had ordered EZ to accompany him earlier this afternoon to some business that neither of them felt inclined to tell Angel about?

He was being left in the dark and he hated it.

Angel itched. There was no other word for the annoyance that would not leave him in peace as he sat in the clubhouse drinking beer.The other Mayans milled about the room, enjoying themselves in the night air that came through the open windows that cleared out the smoke from cigarettes and the heavier perfume of marijuana. The loud music and raucous activity roared dully in his ears that still rang with what he’d been told.The offhand way that EZ and their smug cousin had informed him that he’d been wrongly informed about his status. 

That he could come online.

He might still be a sentinel like the teacher had told him.Mom had been so excited when he’d come home with the news...

But he hadn’t come online when EZ did so he’d asked the centers. Their answer had been dismissive. If the trauma of his mom dying violently hadn’t made him active it was unlikely that he’d do so.That had been the official letter he’d received that he still had stuck in the lock box between his birth certificate and high school diploma.

The idea had been relentlessly bothering him since he’d left Pop’s shop—circling round and round in his brain as he turned it up down and around to try and see if it told him anything different but still repeating the same information.Not even the distraction of taking a detour the long way back to the club made any difference in how the idea persisted. It was a constant itch in his brain, a thought that wouldn’t leave him alone.He could still come online.He could still possibly be a sentinel.

It was actually more likely than not at some point... if he believed his brother.

Which—wow.Just... wow.

Growing up, he’d felt responsible for EZ.Even though EZ hadn’t needed it most of the time.His brother had been the smart, golden baby of the family. Academically gifted. Never in trouble—or at least not the type of disasters that Angel had gotten into. Had a sweet little girlfriend that had charmed Pops and Mom like nobody’s business. Growing up it had been difficult to be the less smart one and troublemaker. Older brothers were supposed to be wiser and he’d tried to always be that but sometimes the easy way his brother made his way had been infuriating to him.

Angel wasn’t stupid—he could identify the emotion that drove him to sometimes be an asshole to his kid brother. Jealousy was a bitch of a mistress and when Pops would look so proud at something EZ did... yeah.Angel knew he was a vindictive asshole at times.He had enough self awareness to know that EZ didn’t deserve him being mean to him growing up like only an older brother could be.

Some days it felt like their sibling rivalry only went one way and Angel was the biggest asshole in at least California if not the entire west coast.

It was even worse that EZ always forgave him and was a fucking delight when Angel would try and be a good older brother and include him in stuff. EZ’s smile could light up the room it was so sunny with the dimples and everything... and it hadn’t been the same since Stockton.

HIs kid brother had been beaten down by the system, chewed up and spat back out. 

The hunch of the shoulders and the way he always stood with his hands up in front ready to defend himself. Quieter. More reserved. Always waiting to see what everyone else was doing before joining in but rarely giving any personal preference.Never seemingly giving a preference when someone pressed him for it and the hunted look it could induce when Angel watched someone press EZ for an answer.

The little brother that he’d gotten back wasn’t the same that had gone in.The man who’d walked out of those gates seemed at times to only be a shadow of his kid brother and, at times, a complete stranger who happened to look like an older version of EZ. EZ the sentinel wasn’t something Angel really knew what to make of some days. Still smart as shit. Still could be a little shit kid brother.

But not the same.

He missed his little brother that was. It felt some days like EZ had died when he’d gone to prison and some weird alien twin had been what they’d gotten back.He’d still die for his little brother either way but he missed the younger, more innocent version.

The few times Angel had been able to convince himself to visit EZ in Stockton had been hard.His own time in Chino hadn’t been easy and going back to visit had made him jittery for days and unable to sleep without feeling like he was back in his old cell.The crawling sensation of always being watched, constantly vigilant for a shiv headed for his kidneys or a sharp blow to the head.The thought of his sheltered brother having to deal with the stress of incarceration had left him shaking with remembered fear and looking for someone to fight so he could protect EZ. 

He just couldn’t step into that visitor’s room more than a few times.

Couldn’t leave EZ behind when their time was up.

Couldn’t face how his brother seemed to fade each time he saw him, His spirit slowly being leeched away by the four walls of his cell and the monotony and danger of doing time in California’s prisons.

Whatever legal fuckup that had led to EZ’s release?Angel hadn’t completely understood the jargon but it basically was that whoever had done the investigation had messed up when processing the scene. A sympathetic judge had then decreased his little brother’s sentence as a political statement. Which Angel could be happy about as it got EZ out. He wasn’t going to look at gift horses too closely.

Because EZ was coming home.

Nothing else had mattered other than that.

His brother would be back where he belonged.

But he hadn’t gotten his little kid brother back had he?

This older, cautious EZ who held himself like he was ready to protect himself at all times. Shoulders hunched and fists up—ready for what exactly? 

At times, Angel could almost convince himself that EZ was getting better. He’d drink orange juice straight from the carton. He’d wrestle with Angel like they had as kids and then, when Pops inevitably broke up the fight, they’d apologize to Mom for fighting like they’d always done even though she was gone...

But then something would remind them both how much time had passed. The wearing of time on both of them made them break apart and, like wary animals, attempt to fake being close like they’d used to be.

Pops’ frown lines were becoming permanently etched on the man’s face.

Which just felt like another failure in a string of them to Angel.

When EZ had expressed interest in joining the Mayans, Angel had paused for all of two seconds before enthusiastically agreeing. With EZ as a prospect, Angel could keep an eye on him. Make sure EZ was okay.

Get him out of the trailer that he’d never left without being asked to for the entire first month after getting out.It had almost been like EZ still felt like he couldn’t leave without permission. Like he’d never left that cell he’d lived in for eight years.

Angel couldn’t let his little brother down.

His little brother who was a Sentinel—with a capital S given the two wolfs that seemed to now follow him. The kid brother who had hugged their annoyingly perfect cousin Kevin like he was a drowning man grasping a life preserver.

It rankled more than a bit that Kevin got that sort of response whereas Angel just got snarled and snapped at by EZ’s pets.But maybe if he became a sentinel too then he could... he could do that too. Be a beta?That was the term used.

What exactly was a beta? 

EZ was an alpha... and that meant.... what?

Coco had one of the girls who liked to hang out with the club on his lap, her dark chocolate curls tumbling in a cascade as she tossed her head flirtatiously with him.The beer in her hand held out for Coco to take a sip before he took a drag off his cigarette. The hugely exaggerated story that Coco was telling her had her giggling as she bounced around making Coco’s long fingers curl around her pert backside that was barely covered by the cutoff shorts she wore, pulling her closer and holding her secure.Fuck, from where he sat drinking his beer, Angel could see the small strip of navy lace peaking out from from the denim like a tease.

As Angel watched, something stirred in him as Coco’s index finger slipped underneath the hem near where the cleft of her ass was making her wriggle and back arch to show off her breasts, the lace of her matching bra peaking out from the low cut of her thin t-shirt that didn’t really hide much either. Coco was getting an eyeful and suddenly Angel wanted to have a chat with the guide—away from all of this.

“Coco!”

The guide startled, eyes darting to meet Angel’s. Tilting his head in question, he relaxed his grip on the girl whose name Angel should probably remember given the pout she was throwing his way.He vaguely remembered her being into threesomes with one of the other girls but that had been one very booze and drug filled night and his memory wasn’t supplying him with a name.

“Yeah? What’s up?”

Standing, Angel downed the remainder of his beer and beckoned for Coco to follow him. Coco’s hands dropped from the girl, his attention focused solely on Angel. “Sorry baby,” Coco absently told her and stood, almost knocking her off her feet as she stumbled away.

Angel couldn’t watch as she opened her mouth to protest. Pivoting on his heel, he grabbed two more beers and exited the clubhouse.

Coco would follow or not but he couldn’t watch him flirting right now.

He didn’t go far, just to his bike where he opened one of the beers and took a deep swallow. The taste of the Pilsner coated his tongue as he tilted his head back to look up at the sky.It was a cloudless and moonless night and he could faintly make out a few stars despite the heavy light pollution. Coco’s boots kicked a few loose rocks to skitter as he approached, gait hesitant. “Angel?”

“I need to ask you some things... “ he started, unsure which question was the most important but needing to ask them all. “Things about being a sentinel.”

“Sure,” Coco was closer now and Angel could sense the other man’s body heat along his right side so he held out the beer without looking and it was taken. The soft brush of Coco’s hand against his made a shiver go down his back and he finally looked at the guide.

Coco was watching him with concern, brows lowered and a slight frown on his lips as he took a sip from the beer. “What do you need to know?I mean I don’t know everything...”

“You know more than me.”

Coco shrugged, leaning against his own bike that was next to Angel’s. “You live and learn?”

“I suppose. Why haven’t you found a sentinel? What makes a sentinel a match for a guide?”

An eyebrow quirked up at the question and the frown melted away as Coco snorted in amusement and flashed a small smile Angel’s way. “It’s.... well.” He paused long enough to take another sip of beer. “It’s like the movies—right?I mean I’m not a really strong guide like your baby bro needs but I’m not like a really weak one either?”

“I really don’t understand this Coco,” Angel confessed. “Please explain it to me.”

Coco nervously licked his lips, looking away. “In the movies... it’s always one guide for one sentinel... and that’s kinda right. If you’re like EZ?Yeah it’s definitely that way.”

“But how do you know his guide is right for him?That she’s just not a powerful guide who latched onto him?”

The head shake was a brisk denial and Coco’s tone became dead serious. “At that level?It’s not like that at all. You have to.. match?When I feel EZ I can tell that his guide is an exact match.If you’re a guide then you can feel that they just are exactly right for each other.”

“Feel?”Angel was trying to understand but it was frustrating as he felt the language being used wasn’t descriptive enough.

“Guides... so sentinels have the enhanced senses right?Guides have extra senses that feel emotions and really strong ones—like your brother’s—can project those feelings. It’s... the marines called it manipulating spirit energy to keep balance between sentinels and guides but that’s because of all that wind-talker Navajostuff from World War Two right?

“What?” Angel was confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Excitement leaked into Coco’s voice as he began to ramble and gesture with his beer. “So like the first marine unit to be made up of sentinels and guides was back in World War Two in the pacific right?The wind talkers were a bunch of Navajo guides and they got assigned sentinels to act as their protectors. Those guides were bad ass let me tell you and they influenced all the training and marine traditions for guides.”

Angel just stared as Coco went on to tell him about several guides that had made huge changes to things, saved lives. He couldn’t interrupt him as Coco’s voice washed over him soothingly but still not answering his questions. When he paused to take a breath, Angel interrupted him. “So guide’s feel things?”

Opening and closing his mouth as his brain fumbled for a response, Coco nodded. “Yeah.”

“And by feeling they do what?Know if they’ve found their sentinel because they ‘match’?”

Coco wiggled his hand in a so-so motion. “Kinda.It’s more than that but it’s a good way of putting it.”

“And you didn’t match with EZ?”

The guide’s eyes dropped to the dirt below their boots and he shook his head. “Naw. I mean I’m not chopped liver or anything but EZ feels like an oncoming storm he’s so strong?All self-contained and everything. He always feels like he’s got everything so locked down...”

Frowning, Angel asked for clarification. “What do you mean ‘locked down’?”

Another shrug as Coco took another drink and winced slightly. “He’s alpha class Angel. Usually the centers lock those guys down quick—they’re too valuable.”

“Valuable?”

Coco looked at him unimpressed. “EZ’s strong. Senses like his?Military loves that shit.He’s lucky the judge in his case didn’t sentence him to life in the service.They’d have found someone to be good enough to keep him functional for a while but without a match? Yeah.He’d prolly be dead if they didn’t use suppressants when you’re locked up.”

“Wait a minute,” alarm bells began to ring in Angel’s mind. “Back up.You said my brother is locked down—what do you mean by that?”

“He’s been on suppressants for years Angel,” Coco began, sounding like he was trying to let Angel down in the kindest way possible. “He’s lucky that it allowed him to get a handle on his senses and adjust down but most of those sentinels that get locked up like him?They lose their abilities. Your brother is kinda lucky really.”

“How is he lucky?” Angel thought that actually sounded terrible. “You’re saying that he doesn’t use his abilities or he what?Loses control?”

Coco shrugged. “Kinda?I mean for an unbonded sentinel he’s actually kinda impressive. He’s got control that I’ve like never seen outside of the sandbox.”

“So you have seen other sentinel’s with control like his?”

“Yeah—bonded ones.” Coco wasn’t meeting his eyes and was staring at his beer. “I mean... it’s like he knew his guide was close and he was just waiting.”

“EZ knew?He knew his guide was close?”

Coco’s eyes flicked up and held Angel’s as he shook his head slightly. “No. I mean...” he dropped his gaze back to his beer. “Your brother has really good control. I think that’s what he doesn’t like going out and stuff. But without his guide?I can like... temporarily make it better but it’s like trying to hold back a tsunami since we don’t match and I’m not on his level.”

“EZ is too strong?”

“Yeah.He’s an alpha.”

“Alpha?I keep hearing that label.”

Coco waved his hand dismissively. “Yeah.Mean’s he’s really strong. Levels are a continuity not like a bucket you get sorted into.”

“And beta?”

Coco looked wary all of the sudden. “In what context?It can mean two different things.”

“My brother has one—our cousin Kevin.”

Coco’s brow wrinkled in surprise as his eyes widened before he hunched his shoulders and looked away. “Oh.”

“Oh what?” Angel shot back, getting frustrated.

“My bad! I mean... it’s not bad....”. Coco waved his hands as his shoulders rolled inward to make his body smaller.

“Coco,” Angel growled in frustration. “Explain.”

“If he’s calling your cuz his beta it means he’s his second. That he’s building a pride around his guide and him.”

Angel stared. “Pride?”

Coco rubbed his neck absently, obviously struggling to find a way to explain what he knew. “Strong sentinels—alphas—they pull other sentinels and guides to them naturally. Like a wolf pack given EZ’s got those spirit animals....”

“So EZ is like... what?The alpha wolf in charge of the pack?”

Coco’s lips twisted up and down as his brow lowered in frustration. “Kinda.It’s more than that but it’s...yeah.Think of it like that.Your cousin as his ‘beta’ is his left hand man.”

Angel scowled at the bolt of jealousy that clawed at him. “Fucking Kevin,” he swore under his breath. “So Kevin is my brother’s new best friend?”

Obviously noticing that Angel was unhappy with this news, Coco gave a small nod. “Yeah.But if it makes you feel any better it’s instinctual.EZ’s gonna be drawn to other sentinels that are willing to submit to him.”

Submit?“What?”

“Beta class—meaning they’re not alpha level—sentinels tend to follow alpha sentinels and it’s instinctual so they do it automatically and it takes a lot to break those habits.The military loves that shit. It’s why some units are run so well...the best recon units and SEAL teams use sentinel structures.”

“This makes no sense,” Angel griped, hands twisting around the glass bottle. “So Kevin is his beta. And EZ is an alpha. Is EZ’s guide an alpha too?”

“A guide usually matches their sentinel,” Coco whispered, again refusing to meet Angel’s eyes.

Angel tried to process what Coco was telling him. It was similar to what EZ and Kevin had told him but it still seemed so bizarre. But submission... the way that Kevin had completely relaxed into his brother’s hold,.. submission was the right label for that. The way that Kevin’s eyes had dilated and rolled back in his head and how limp he’d gone in EZ’s hold... Angel was pretty sure EZ had licked Kevin.

“So alphas have prides or packs or whatever.What about coming online?”

“What about it?” Coco was confused by the abrupt change in conversation.

“How do you come online? Become active? Whatever you want to call it?”

Coco fidgeted under his gaze but his answer was quiet. “Stress. You gotta get stressed.”

“Are there limits to what can do it?Like how old do you need to be? How old is too old?”

Coco’s hand was rubbing at his neck again, fingers tugging slightly on a lock of hair. “I mean... I don’t know that there’s a limit?It’s bad if you’re too young....” he trailed off.

“So age isn’t a factor?What about relatives? If you have a brother who’s active does it mean you’re likely to get online too?”

“It runs in families?” Coco stammered. “I mean... I don’t know?My unit had like three sets of brothers that were all online.”

“Did they all activate at the same time? Like is it because they all had the same bad life event?”

Coco thought about the question for a few moments before replying. “Nah.I know one of the brother pairs... one was in a building that collapsed on his squad and the other was in a car accident with his kids that pushed him over.Man—that guy with the car accident ended up bonded to one of his fellow squad mates—our doc—and let me tell you was that funny. Doc kept harassing his sentinel like nobody’s business. That was an awkward divorce to watch.”

“Why was it awkward?”Angel asked, puzzled by the aside.

“Most butch midwestern white dude ever to wear lumberjack plaid and goes hunting every fall ended up matched with our very male, no-funny-business half-Mexican half-black medic from Arizona who runs marathons for fun and is a vegetarian. His wife was like the stereotypical blonde haired blue eyed housewife with the whole 2.5 kids and house in the suburbs. Very tragic.”

Still processing, his brain tripped on one fact. “Wait. Divorce?You said he had a male guide...”

Coco stared at Angel like he was an idiot. “What? Sex with your sentinel is sex with your sentinel. Best sex you’ll ever have.Doesn’t matter if they’re male or female.”

“But surely you can still have sex with your wife or girlfriend?It’s not like the only sex you’ll have....”

“Angel—bonds like that are powerful stuff.I mean when you were pushing EZ towards me—I thought you knew?”The disappointed frown that Coco was sending him made something in Angel’s stomach squirm in discomfort.

“Well I thought maybe it’d be a one off thing?I mean he’d just got out of Stockton so...” Angel’s train of thought trailed off.He’d thought it’d be a bit awkward if EZ and Coco had to have sex at least once to bond but afterwards... like maybe they’d just need to get off together?The details were always a bit sketchy in some of the stories that weren’t chick flicks.At least it would have meant EZ was back in the game instead of dodging every opportunity sent his way. Like getting his brother back on the horse....

“So you thought I should what? Lay back and think of England?” Coco was incredulous.

“Well... maybe..” He’d purposefully actually not thought about that part at all when he’d been so worried about EZ.

“No.Fuck you Angel.It doesn’t work that way,” Coco crossed his arms across his chest and was now glaring at Angel.

Backpedaling, Angel gestured with his beer. “I’m sorry!I just... I didn’t think about it!”

Coco huffed, blowing out a breath of frustration that made his hair flutter around his face. “Obviously,” he muttered so low it was barely audible before increasing the volume of his voice as he pinned Angel in place with his glare. “You have no clue do you?”

“No clue about what?”

Coco threw both his hands up in the air and looked skywards, eyes rolling. “God you really don’t have a clue. You’re fucking clueless!”

“So fucking tell me!” Angel ground back, gritting his teeth as he glared at Coco. “Nobody fucking tells me anything!”

“That’s because you’re too busy fucking Adelita!” Coco snapped before paling and looking away. The yard lights barely gave enough light but Angel could clearly see that something he’d said had really upset Coco. 

However, what did Adelita have to do with any of this? “What?”

Frustrated, Coco gestured several times in agitation before speaking. “You’re doing all this shit because you’re fucking her.”

Hissing at Coco to keep quiet, Angel made sure none of their fellow Mayans was listening in—Taza had ears like a bat when he wasn’t suitably distracted. “Keep it down—and why is that a problem?”

Sadness crossed Coco’s face before he smoothed it to a neutral expression. “Your dick is going to get us all killed you know.”

“It is not,” Angel argued.So what if he found Adelita’s cause a worthy one?Why shouldn’t they get back at Galindo for what he and his had done to Adelita and others like her?Los Olividados was just getting theirs back and if he took advantage of that to swing new business deals for the Mayans what was the problem?

“You can’t... you are.” The last part sounded resigned and Angel got the impression that Coco wasn’t answering him but talking to himself.

“I can’t what?”

Coco looked away, downing the rest of his beer before turning to leave. “Maybe it doesn’t matter anyways,” he muttered.

“What doesn’t matter?” Angel said as he grabbed Coco’s shoulder and spun the man back around to face him, eyes searching in Coco’s for a clue as to what Coco was talking about.

Coco purposefully looked over Angel’s shoulder, refusing to meet his. “Do me a favor?When Adelita gets you into trouble? Real trouble that you need help getting out of? Remember I told you she was nothing but trouble.”Coco then carefully wrapped his fingers around Angel’s wrist and removed the hand from his shoulder and taking a step back to put distance between them before dropping his hold.

The loss of the touch seemed like a brand around his wrist, and he found himself cradling it against his chest, staring at his best friend. Sensing he was missing something, something important, Angel tried again. “Coco....”

“Don’t.”The finality of the single word cut through the air between them.

“Don’t what?” Angel whispered. Alarms in his brain told him that this conversation was going to have consequences. Consequences he couldn’t name but knew that he was messing up.

The twist to Coco’s mouth looked both pained as well as angry. “Just don’t Angel.You should talk to your brother with your questions.He’s a sentinel so he’ll be better able to answer them anyway.”

“But I’m not a sentinel...”

Angel could barely begin to interpret the look that Coco sent him as he pulled further away and a phantom cold finger seemed to run itself along his spine making him shiver. “I think EZ will have more answers for you,” Coco threw over his shoulder as a parting shot. “I don’t think a guide will be able to tell you what you want to know.”

Standing alone out in the yard amongst the motorcycles, Angel could only watch as Coco stepped back inside the clubhouse. He’d gotten some answers but they’d just generated more questions. The itching want to know and understand wasn’t satisfied—if anything it still chewed hungrily at him.

Finishing his beer, he threw the bottle against the wall of the club house where it shattered. Sitting slumped on his bike, he stared unseeingly at the doorway that Coco had disappeared through, thoughts unsettled.

An errant thought had him slinging his leg across the bike and fumbling with his helmet.He didn’t want to watch the rest of the club get drunk and laid. Maybe Luisa would be in a better mood tonight.

***

Making his way over the border and to the new campsite that was actually closer than the last, Angel’s mood didn’t lighten. The campsite was well lit despite the lateness of the hour and he was greeted by one of the adult sentries the moment he rode up.

Angel was given his space but the way he was watched now felt distinctly unfriendly where before he’d been greeted warmly. There was little going on within the camp, the children asleep.Stashing his helmet, he walked briskly towards the camper that Adelita called her home.Rapping his knuckles briskly on the door, he waited for acknowledgement before entering.

“Hey,” he called as he entered the small space. Luisa, known to many as Adelita the leader of Los Olividados, was curled over a cup of coffee with a portable camp lantern illuminating the small table that had papers spread out across it with a few pens. Leaning down, he kissed the crown of her curly head, inhaling the herbal scent of her shampoo and the scents of the desert that clung to her like the wild thing that she was. Her hands sought his as she wrapped herself around him to encourage him to sit with her.

“Angel—Quierdo,” she sighed tiredly, her breath escaping her and making her shoulders slump in fatigue.

“How was your day?” He asked as he pressed his lips to her temple in a second kiss, joining her on the narrow padded bench that was really too small for two adults.He wrapped his arm around her narrow shoulders that were covered by a colorful knit shawl to share some of his body heat as the desert was cold at night and there was no heat in the camper. The way her body curved into his, seeking him for comfort as she had since their first meeting.

“Long,” she finally answered him, resting her body against his before falling silent again for several moments. “How was yours?”

“Long,” he echoed, smiling into her hair as she curled into his body. “Did you figure out how the baby disappeared?”

“No,” was the sharp reply and she pulled away just slightly, turning her chin so she could look at him with frustration making her lips pinch. “I’ve checked. And there’s been no sign that Galindo has him.”

“So who took the kid?” Angel asked, curious to see her opinion.

“I don’t know,” she admitted, forehead wrinkling. “None of my people have come forward. It is like a ghost took the boy.Those wolves... they were like ghosts and scared all of us and then the baby was gone.”

Angel stilled against her, “Wolves?”

Her gaze sharpened and she pulled back so she could look at him fully. “Yes.A pair of them. Mexican wolves.”

Angel noisily cleared his throat. “I didn’t know there were wild wolves around here.”

She frowned at him. “They are endangered... but the ranchers like to poach them. We occasionally see one of them but it is usually coyotes....”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just large coyotes?”Angel quashed the idea that EZ had anything to do with the missing baby. There was no reason for his brother to care—right?Emily wasn’t his guide... but wolves? It just had to be a coincidence.

“Well it does not matter either way,” she said with a huff, her fingers combing through her hair in fatigue as she pulled it loose from the tie at the base of her neck. “Ghosts don’t steal laptops.”

“Laptop?” Angel queried.She hadn’t mentioned anything other than the baby last night.

“Yes.And Enrique fell asleep like he’d been drugged.It is very odd.Enrique swears he wasn’t tired and then all of the sudden he was asleep.If it wasn’t for the fact that he could barely stay awake today I would think he was behind it but we had to take him to see a doctor because he kept falling asleep.”She began collecting all the papers spread out into a neat pile, her movements choppy with agitation but she didn’t push him away.

“What did the doctor say?” Angel almost didn’t want to know anything further. Either it would point towards EZ or it wouldn’t but if he didn’t know then he wouldn’t have to do anything about it. But EZ wouldn’t have a reason to...

“Enrique is perfectly healthy.No reason for him to keep falling asleep but it seems to be wearing off.”

“Weird.”So Enrique hadn’t slept in a while?Nothing to be suspicious about. “So this laptop?What was on it?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Why do you want to know?”

“You seem worried.And maybe I can help.”His brain was refusing to acknowledge that EZ and the missing baby had any relation. It was just a coincidence about the wolves. It had to be. There had to be another reason.

She studied him, seemingly staring right through him but he refused to flinch and just calmly met her gaze. After a moment, she relaxed minutely. “It had money on it,” she admitted, fidgeting with the papers.

“So who would know that?Would know that there is money on it?The baby could also be traded for money,” he pointed out.It would be a good reason—Galindo would pay for his kid if it meant he got him back safe—or so Angel judged the man even if he didn’t like him.

She tapped her fingers in thought. “There are only a few who know about the accounts... I will have to talk to each person.”

Rubbing her arm, he tried to be supportive. “How much money was on the laptop?”

Her eyes were serious when they met his. “All of it.All our accounts were accessed via that laptop.”

Angel let out a low whistle. “All of it?”

Luisa nodded, face grim. “All of it.This will cause my people to go hungry if we do not recover it.”

“And the bribe money?”Horror rose in Angel’s throat.If Los Olividados didn’t have enough money to pay out the bribes that they owed... the Federales would not look the other way anymore.It wouldn’t take much to put their whole operation at risk of being dismantled. 

***

_XIV. Emily_

Frustrated. 

Angry.

Scared—though less of that right now-now given she was at home and Nestor made sure she saw him and his team’s presence surrounding her like a layer of armor.The soft squeeze to her shoulder and the extra careful way Nestor made enough noise to let her know that he wasn’t sneaking up on her when she ensconced herself in the living room that had become her refuge the last week since the kidnapping and how he always seemed to be handing her a new cup of hot tea... Nestor had been the most supportive of anyone in this house.

Dita fluttered in and out, her mother-in-law’s own anxiety feeding into her fears and ratcheting them up instead of helping. The frown lines felt like they were becoming permanently etched between her eyes and her neck was tight with chronic tension that didn’t abate no matter how much she rubbed at it.

Suspicion. Her husband’s silence had created a space between them that seemed at times insurmountable yet she also resented it but didn’t do anything about it. Miguel should be here next to her but he also should be working to get their son back, out searching and the dichotomy made her both suspicious at his distance as well as grateful for it. Too many parts of her were at war with each other. She wasn’t being kind to her husband.

Worry, however, alternatively swamped her in waves. Worry for Cristobal. Worry about who else Los Olividados would target. Worry for her husband and his business and what he wasn’t telling her—what he was hiding from her. So much worry and stress making her fatigued and snappish, her nerves shot and her hands shaking around the mug of tea she clutched like a lifeline most days. 

She hadn’t slept well since that night. Her dreams were haunted by half-remembered glances of homemade masks and the sound of gunshots. The smell of blood and the feeling of loose, broken asphalt under her hands and knees.

And ending up in the hospital?

EZ had been more of a comfort than her own husband. He’d come to see her as soon as she’d called and it had felt like slipping back into that old, comfortable place before he’d gone to prison.... like a comfortable old sweater.

Emily sighed, carding her hands through her loose hair and looked down at Cristóbal who was asleep in her arms. Soft, sweat dampened curls moved in the air movement from the ceiling fan above them. She hadn’t let Dita or anyone else take him from her arms once she’d settled back into her nest. Miguel had gone out to some sort of mysterious business meeting and, upon returning had only checked in on their son before hiding back again in his office saying hardly a word to her.

He’d been distant. Cold. Unfeeling and unresponsive when she’d purposefully turned their son away from his hand when he’d reached out to caress his crown. He hadn’t fought with her and instead was keeping his distance despite how she knew he had to be wanting to hold his tesoro.

She was being unfair to her husband. She knew this... but she couldn’t stop her instinctual response of blaming Miguel for what had happened. And then he’d frozen her out after the hospital.No news. No updates. No indication of what was happening with their son.

And then he’d shown up with Cristóbal in his arms today...and he’d had him for how long? 

He hadn’t told her the moment he had their baby back... How could he be so cruel to her?

She might forgive Miguel—eventually. But for now?She needed to just be with her son and have some distance between herself and her husband. Distance so she could think. So she could try to soothe her jangled nerves.

Emily wasn’t kidding herself—she knew she’d hurt Miguel when he was already blaming himself for the abduction... but it wasn’t exactly inaccurate to say that if it hadn’t been for who Miguel was their son never would have been taken from her arms.

But he had gotten Cristóbal back....

She sighed, resettling her son’s weight against her body.It was past bedtime and she should put her baby to bed.

Rising, careful not to disturb Cristóbal.Swaying lightly as she traversed the house, she turned down lights as she passed, not needing them to navigate. Entering the nursery which was next to Miguel and hers bedroom, she gently laid Cristóbal down. Bending, she placed a kiss on her son’s forehead before activating the nightlight that made like ocean waves on the ceiling cycling between blues and greens that Miguel had insisted on and she’d grown fond of.She also switched on the baby monitor, grabbing the handset and placing it in the pocket of her sweater.

She spent several minutes just watching Cristóbal sleep. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and the way his little fists curled as he slept.She’d missed this so much the last several days and feared she’d never have moments like this again.

But Cristóbal was safe in his bed.Her baby was home.

Reluctantly she left her son’s bedside and entered her own room. Despite the lateness of the hour, Miguel wasn’t in bed.He’d looked tired earlier when he’d escaped to his office but he hadn’t turned in early—which he tended to do when he’d been away from home for more than a night. His side of the bed was untouched and the light wasn’t on in the attached master bath.

Frowning, Emily debated internally whether or not she should approach Miguel in his office.The office was his territory and he got tetchy if she invaded it—his words not hers.The office was business territory and he liked to have a separation of his home and work to not mix her up in it—which had failed given their son’s kidnapping.

Deciding to give Miguel a little bit more time, she drew herself a bath and lit the sandalwood and gardenia candles instead of using the overhead lights.Using the scented bubble bath, she settled in to decompress and activated the jets in the water, the thrum of moving water stirring and creating currents around her body that the bubbles danced in and lapped just under her chin as she reclined fully.

The heat of the water seeped into her muscles and bones, easing the ache that had been a persistent presence between her shoulder blades. Humming to herself, she mentally drifted as she enjoyed the relaxing warmth and cradle of the water.

For once her thoughts didn’t center on the kidnapping.She thought of EZ and how he’d come when she called. The soft look of fond remembrance he had on his face when she spoke with him that told her he hadn’t completely forgotten what they’d had.She could still recall how he’d made her feel—he’d been her first real boyfriend, first lover. 

Vivid memories of how good of a sexual partner EZ was, how she used to wrap her legs around him and the way he’d cradled her body... the powerful contraction of muscles and his tendency to pluck at her nipples until she’d begged him for release from her torment. How he’d learned to please her, satisfy her. They’d both learned so much from one another. Her body responded to the memories, nipples peaking in the water and a thrill centered in her lower belly.

EZ had also been the father of her first... her hand drifted to her abdomen and rested there and she let her eyes slide closed.Well it was no use dwelling on that.What could have been if she’d made different choices.

Still, it was worth noting the differences between her old flame and husband. They had more similarities than either man would likely be happy to admit to.Both handsome men who had an undercurrent to them of intensity—EZ’s more gentle than Miguel’s.Miguel could be much different with her than anyone else and she wondered how much EZ had changed in almost a decade of being behind bars.How was he with others versus her?Did he still have that softness, that small private smile that had just been for her? 

Miguel hadn’t looked at her the same today.

That thought made her shiver.She hit the tap to add more hot water to her bath and the foaming bubbles grew around the faucet. The added heat from the fresh water making her feel chilled despite the water still being quite warm.

Miguel had looked at her different today.

She tried not to shy away from that thought and the uncomfortable pit in her stomach ached. Emily was angry with him.He’d not called or responded to any message. Miguel had left her alone in their house to wait. To stew in her negative thoughts and get angrier and angrier with him as the cause of her son’s absence.

Emily hadn’t made any efforts to find a new nanny despite Dita’s recommendation she do so.Whenever she thought of it she could still hear the gunshot that had ended Cristóbal‘s nanny’s life.

She could take care of her own child.

She could make time. It wasn’t so hard to watch your own child. Billions of mothers did so every day.She just wouldn’t tell her mother.

Cristóbal was older now—he slept most of the nights. Or at least usually he did.She would find out how her child had been changed by recent events. Hopefully he would be too young to understand or remember—a blessing.

Miguel preferred to do the night feedings and awakenings...

Miguel....

She was still upset with him but she knew he would give her space and then, when she was ready to forgive him a little, he would make it up to her.He would shower her with affection and gestures of how much he cared. His methods of earning her forgiveness were one of the things that she most liked about him.

Maybe he would even apologize this time...

No.He wouldn’t.Not with that look in his eyes.

Miguel hadn’t looked at her the same way. 

Something had changed between them—had made part of him a stranger to her.

What had he done to get Cristóbal back?

What had been the price?

Unsettled by her thoughts, she dunked her hair under the water and then focused on washing herself. The rough pull of the loofah against her skin as she methodically worked her way from head to toe until she was clean.

Another dunking to rinse away the soap and then she put conditioner in her hair to sit.

The water was losing it’s warmth.

She hadn’t heard anything from the bedroom—was Miguel going to sulk in his office all night?

Now annoyed, she opened the drain and stood to wrap a towel around her body before using the smaller microfiber one for her hair that she twisted into a turban with a tight spiral to hold it in place. Stalking into the bedroom, she confirmed that Miguel still hadn’t come to bed. The bedside clock informed her it was after eleven.

It was beyond late. 

Still not willing to admit to her worry and go hunting after her husband, she yanked out the vanity chair and began her skincare regimen.She was perhaps pressing the applicator pads into her skin with more force than was necessary and the acid of the exfoliator made her eyes tingle with the threat of tears when she swiped too close to them.Trying to focus on her reflection, she still found herself darting glances towards the doorway every few seconds.

It took her almost twenty minutes to go through the entirety of her routine and still no Miguel to wrap his arms around her and press a kiss to her hair like he did most nights.

Dressing in the flowing navy silk nightgown that she knew hugged her curves in just the right way, she stood in front of the bed and frowned at it. Miguel must be tired. He should be here. She couldn’t forgive him if he did not make an effort.That was how they worked—their regular habits and patterns. Their give and take.

The house was quiet given the hour but there would still be the increased security presence—Nestor had promised her they’d never be in danger here in their home.

Where was Miguel?If he’d left her here again...

Grabbing her robe, she wrapped it around her body but forewent the slippers. She’d drag Miguel out of his office if necessary—he couldn’t avoid her forever.

Marching down the hallway, she didn’t encounter anyone but she could see the faint light on in the small alcove where one of Nestor’s men sat, eyes on the screen that showed the security feed. He was professional enough not to say anything to the mistress of the house storming through the hallways at almost midnight. 

Reaching the office, she drew herself up to her full height and knocked loudly on the door.Not waiting for an answer, she twisted the doorknob and entered.

The office was dark, lights off and desk clean of all papers. Miguel wasn’t here but she could still smell the musk of his cologne that lingered in the air.

Where had Miguel gone?Where was he?

Worry bloomed. She walked through the house headed for the attached mother-in-law suite that Dita lived in. Maybe Miguel had wanted to talk with his mother since he hadn’t earlier?

Crossing the kitchen, she glanced out the window over the sink, attention caught by a flicker of light.A light was on in the pool house, it’s amber glow spreading across the waters of the pool in the almost moonless night and illuminating the interior of the pool house .

Had Miguel decided to give her space tonight? He’d only done so once before and she hadn’t liked it then but felt it necessary.

Sliding the patio door open, she stepped outside into the night. The songs of insects and the muffled noise of the pool pump cycling rang in her ears. Her feet dragged as she came to a stop, staring in silence across the pool.

Miguel hadn’t pulled the curtains closed and the floor to ceiling windows allowed someone outside to see into the pool house’s bedroom from this angle, hiding nothing.

He wasn’t alone.

Her chest was tight, breaths fighting to make it into her lungs and each breath whistled as she sucked it in.She couldn’t look away.

Miguel’s back was to her and he wasn’t wearing anything. Her husband kept himself in prime condition, working out with Nestor and the security team more than was really needed but Emily appreciated the results. Lean muscles on display as he bounced on the bed, legs splayed open and talking to someone she couldn’t see.

She gasped when she saw who it was.

Ezekiel Reyes walked like a predator, hips swiveling as he stalked towards the bed before nimbly leaping on top of Miguel who arched up into him. He was naked as the day he’d been born and hungry as his mouth latched onto Miguel’s whose hands came up to cradle EZ’s face and legs wrapped around to trap EZ close. Their mouths seemingly fused and neither man was aware of their audience as they tussled on the bed, rolling and fighting for dominance.

She was asleep and having a nightmare—that was the only explanation for this. Miguel wouldn’t... EZ was hers. He’d come when she called. She knew he still had feelings for her....

EZ won the fight for dominance, pinning her husband below him. They broke for air only long enough to say something before diving back in to continue the make out session that seemed to last forever but was probably only minutes.Miguel’s hand landed on something and he broke away just long enough to press it into EZ’s hands.

Her former boyfriend knelt in-between her husband’s legs and began working his way down Miguel’s body with his mouth before going down to deep throat his erection, nose buried in Miguel’s belly and throat swallowing around a visible bulge. Miguel wasn’t passive, hands clutching at EZ’s close shorn hair to encourage him on even as his legs were pushed over EZ’s shoulders to open him up more.EZ’s hands were doing something and it took her a moment to work out what he was doing—he was prepping Miguel for anal sex. Her mind stuttered at the realization—neither Miguel nor EZ had ever been into anything like that with her. There had been no hint of any predilection for men or kinky sex that she’d picked up from either of them.

They were going to have sex right in front of her. In full view of anyone looking through the window.

Surely they weren’t really going to.... No they were.Cold realization set in as Miguel’s body was lifted and EZ mounted him, one leg over his shoulder and the other wrapped around with a heel digging into EZ’s spine to urge him on. There was a brief pause when Miguel had taken all of EZ then they began moving in a rhythmic, undulating, coordinated motion.Miguel’s head was thrown back, hands still desperately clutching at EZ who was bitting at a livid purple bruise on the neck.

Their coupling was passionate. EZ gave and Miguel took but also gave back, their bodies dancing horizontally on the bed. 

She couldn’t look away as they reached their climax at the same time, eyes locked on each other.The intimacy of that connection was palpable in the air and she realized she hadn’t been turned off by their act. Her body was interested even as her mind recoiled in aroused horror.

As EZ collapsed down onto Miguel, both of them spent as they folded around each other, she stumbled back towards the door. She couldn’t watch the tenderness with which EZ was now kissing Miguel. She’d never seen either of them like this—so connected through sex. She’d thought...

She didn’t know what she’d thought.

She drifted through the house, staggering as if she was drunk and having to hold onto the walls to keep upright as she headed for Cristóbal‘s room. Her hand was just on the door when an arm wrapped around her waist and halted her progress. She tried to pull at the firm grip, fighting to get loose.

Nestor didn’t let her go, pulling her away from her son. “Let me go!”

“No,” Nestor stated implacably. “You’re going to wake niño.”

She punched him in the chest, again trying to get loose but he didn’t release her. “Let me go!” She exclaimed louder. “Let me go!”

She was crying. She hadn’t realized she was actually sobbing like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and stomped upon.

“Emily,” Nestor’s eyes were saddened as he implored her. “I’m sure they didn’t mean for you to find out this way....”

“And how would I have found out?That my husband is fucking my ex-boyfriend? That they fucking lied to me?!? When would I have found out? When I was being served divorce papers?”

Nestor’s face fell then his jaw set stubbornly. “Stop this.Niño doesn’t need his parents—“

“He doesn’t need his father screwing another man!” She snarled. “That his father is fucking around when he was kidnapped?”

“Stop,” Nestor pled, still attempting to be gentle with her as she smacked him again with her hand. “Emily I do not want to hurt you—“

“Then let me go!”

Nestor’s head snapped back with the force she put behind her hand and slapped him again, so much that her hand hurt. His hold relaxed minimally and she was able to twist out of it. Cristóbal wailed in upset in his room, now awake with the commotion outside it.

Shooting a furious look at Nestor, Emily wrenched the door open and went to her son. Cristóbal‘s face was red as he cried, letting out screams for his parents attention. Shushing him, she gathered him into her arms and lifted him out of the crib. “Shh Cristóbal.Mommy has you.”

Cristóbal wasn’t having any of it and refused to be soothed, arching his back and tiny arms beating on her chest and neck as she repositioned him. Giving him a small bounce as she patted his back, she continued to try to soothe him. Nestor had followed her into the room but gave her space, standing and watching her with wide eyes. “Get out,” she told him. He would be on Miguel’s side.

A spectacularly loud wail announced Miguel’s arrival. Cristóbal tried to fling himself in his father’s direction.Miguel had at least found some clothes her mind nastily observed but his hair was damp and sticking out in different directions. He held out his arms for Cristóbal and she pulled away, turning her body so he couldn’t see Cristóbal.Cristóbal whimpered and made grabby hands towards his father, sniffles and cries continuing.

“Emily,” Miguel stepped closer, still with his arms out.“Let me.”

“No.He’s my son!”

Miguel frowned, his eyes dropping from hers to Cristóbal.“Emily let me try.He’s not going to..”

“He’s my son!You can go back to fucking EZ!”A noise from outside the door made her look towards it.EZ stood awkwardly in the doorframe, his eyes locked on Cristóbal and hands clenched into fists. She wanted to hurt them—they deserved it for what they’d done to her.How dare they.....

“Emily,” Miguel tried again and he’d backed her into the crib as the railing pressed into her back.Cristóbal continued to try and squirm out of her hold towards his father, his cries focused on Miguel. How had he turned even their own son against her?Why would Cristóbal want him instead of her?

Miguel’s hands sneaked under hers and he was lifting a suddenly complacent Cristóbal away from her.Cristóbal made snuffling noises and buried his face and fists into the navy henley Miguel wore, quieting now that he had the parent he wanted. A few soft phrases in Spanish had her son’s cries silenced. The way that Miguel’s hand stretched across their son’s back and then up to cradle the back of the head was gentle.

Nobody spoke for several moments, everyone focused on Cristóbal.

“I want you out,” Emily spat at EZ who had taken a few steps into the room.

“He stays,” Miguel interrupted before she could say anything further, the sharpness to his tone feeling like a knife as it slid through her. “EZ stays.”

“Why?” She asked, her voice breaking with emotion. “Why Miguel?”

Miguel had enough decency to look slightly abashed. “He stays.He helped bring our son home.”

She scoffed. “I saw you.I fucking saw you Miguel!”

“Language—niño is listening,” Nestor interjected but he flinched when she glared at him for the interruption.

Miguel opened his mouth as if to say something but suddenly he stilled, head swiveling to look towards the front of the house. Both EZ and Nestor also did so like a pack of hunting hounds. It was bizarre and frightening how in sync it was. Emily found herself looking with them but they were just staring at a wall.

“Who are they?” Miguel asked aloud confusing her even more.

“DEA,” EZ answered him, coming to stand next to Miguel.

“DEA?” Emily’s asked in confusion. A loud noise from the front of the house and then the sound of multiple people approaching followed. “Miguel?EZ?Tell me what’s going on!” She ordered them as Cristóbal let out a whimper in protest.

Running his hand through Cristóbal‘s curls, Miguel kissed his forehead before reluctantly handing him back to her.“Take Cristóbal and stay in here,” he ordered her, face grim. 

“Miguel?” she could only ask as he strode out the door, Nestor and EZ following him like bodyguards. Cristóbal was silent in her arms, his eyes big and following his father as he left.

What was she supposed to do?What was going on?

A minute later a woman with a smarmy smile in a cheap suit entered the nursery. She had a badge hanging from a lanyard around her neck and a gun holstered on her belt. “Emily Galindo? She asked, voice instantly grating on Emily’s last nerve.

“Yes?” She responded, clutching Cristóbal tight to her.Her son seemed to pick up on her fear and nuzzled into the silk of her pajamas, hiding his face and whimpering.

“You must be very scared.How about you come with me.” It was an order not a suggestion.

What was going on?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Better late than never? I’m still working on this but I’ve picked up a few other projects and well... not much writing time over the holidays. 
> 
> Thanks for reading.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a completely self-indulgent work that I’m posting just for kicks—I just love the sentinel/guide trope and it started as a break from my other long-form fic that’s ongoing. Not sure there’s any audience really out there for this pairing but of all the characters on the limited amount of the show I’ve seen, EZ and Miguel were the only ones that I was semi-interested in other than Jimenez (which is why I started watching it after Narcos). I’m meh about the show but was intrigued enough about the setting to write a bit about it.
> 
> If there is interest, will continue.


End file.
